Melodies Unheard
by Glowing Blue
Summary: A discouraged pianist meets his biggest fan. She'll help him rediscover his spark, and he'll teach her just how special she really is. AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any of its characters. Oh, and I do not own Kodak either!**

* * *

><p>"Hitsugaya-sama, you're on in ten minutes."<p>

"Thank you, Nanao-san. I will be right out."

As he hears Nanao's heels clicking away down the hall, he sighs, running his hand through his signature white hair, specifically styled to be even spikier for the day, as it is his trademark.

Only ten minutes until he has to go out there and pretend like he cares about music or the people gathered out there in the theater.

After all, his entire career is really a show. He pretends to still be interested in the instrument he plays, and he acts as if he really cares for the hoards of obnoxious rich people, who plague him constantly with offers of friendship, most likely for the fame he has acquired at such a young age.

There was once a time when he had loved it; the fame, the publicity, the people, the music. But he had been youthful, fresh, and new to the scene, and now that time has long since passed.

He looks at himself in the mirror and frowns. He is in a bad state. His shirt is in a disarray, his black waistcoat is unbuttoned, his bow tie is hanging untied around his collar, and his jacket has been flung on the sofa he can see reflected behind him in the mirror. There are bags under his eyes; he wants to sleep.

Matsumoto will have a fit if she sees him. She probably will not even let him on the stage looking like this, seeing as she has informed him this recital will be televised live. There is no chance she will allow the public to see him in such a sloppy fashion.

With a disheartened effort, he rearranges his shirt and tucks it into his trousers, buttons up his vest, ties his bow tie and slips it under the collar, and slips on his jacket after grabbing it from the couch, fastening each button carefully.

When he looks in the mirror, he sees a young adult staring back at him with a bored expression on his face. He sees not Hitsugaya Toushiro, but Hitsugaya Toushiro, the World Renowned Pianist.

Pretty soon, he hears heels clicking on the floor again and, a moment later, his manager enters, her bright orange hair in a neat bun at the nape of her neck and her usually unrestricted bosom trapped under her formal dress.

"Oh, look at you all dressed up," she coos. "You look so handsome."

He scowls.

"Don't push it, Matsumoto," he growls. "You know I have no desire to be here, and I _will _walk out right now if you push me too far."

Matsumoto simply rolls her eyes.

"You say that before every recital. And have you ever actually walked out? No."

There is a pause before she steps towards him and slips his tie into her hands. As she rearranges the slight crookedness of the garment, she smiles gently.

"You know, you really do look handsome," she says softly. "It's so amazing to see you like this. I sometimes still have trouble picturing you as anything other than the cheeky brat who used to spit watermelon seeds at your sister, but seeing you all dressed up like this really reminds me how talented you really are."

His eyes soften slightly.

"I guess I have you to thank for the discovery. After all, you _were _the one who pushed me into taking lessons, even though I kept refusing."

Matsumoto laughs.

"Oh wow! You, actually thanking me. Now _this _is a Kodak moment. Where's a camera when you need one?"

The soft look in his eyes is replaced with irritation. Trust Matsumoto to ruin a moment with her tendency to tease.

"Don't I have a recital to play?" he snaps, hoping to get away from her.

"Oh right! We better get out there, before Nanao-chan blows a fuse. The poor girl's been arranging this for weeks, and now that the day is finally here, she looks ready to pull her own hair out. Or ours," she adds as an afterthought. She suddenly looks panicked. "I think it's best not to make her wait."

"Now hold on," Hitsugaya says, smirking. "A bald Matsumoto? I don't want to miss _that._"

"Oh, hush up, you," she says, though she is smiling, and he allows her to drag him out of the room and down the hall by his wrist.

"There you two are!" Nanao cries, looking hassled as she sees them emerge from the dressing rooms area of the theater. "You're on in three minutes, Hitsugaya-sama. Please get into position."

As he rushes to the side of the stage where he will make his entrance, Matsumoto rushes after him, adding last minute fixtures to his clothing. He knows this is her way of relieving her anxiety about the upcoming performance, so he lets her smooth out creases and straighten his clothing.

He is indifferent to the situation. Right now, all he really wants is some sleep and some solitude, and all he really cares about is that he will not be getting it anytime soon.

When the announcer calls his name, he bats away Matsumoto's hand and tries to lift his bored expression before walking out on the stage.

The polite applause comes instantly and he, in turn, gives a polite bow, as is expected of him. As always, simply a show.

When he settles at the piano in the center of the stage, he feels no spark ignite in his fingers, as had often happened in the early years of his career, and he feels no excitement at the sight of the cameras focusing on him, as he had felt during his first performances; instead, he tries his best to ignore them.

Despite his cold attitude towards the music, he is still very talented. He lets his fingers flow smoothly over the keys, hitting each note lightly to create the effect he desires. It works; he feels the atmosphere in the room lighten, and he can see the audience members begin to relax into their seats, letting the music overtake them. He wishes he is still able to do that.

**.. ღ ..**

It is while he is looking out at the audience at this time that he catches his first glimpse of _her._

She is seated in the front row of the seats on the balcony. There is nothing really very special about her; she is dressed in formal wear, as all the others in the room, yet her dress is simple, without ruffles or sparkles, as so many of the females in the room have chosen to wear. Her hair is cropped short, and it has been styled to curl in and frame her face. There is no makeup on her face.

But it is not her state of dress that catches his attention, but the serene expression on her face. She has leaned back in her chair like many others in the room, but, unlike the others, her eyes are closed softly, no creases on her face to show the slightest state of discomfort. A small smile is playing on her lips as she takes in the music and her small hands are folded lightly in her lap, one laying on top of the other. She looks content.

Perhaps it is the tranquil state she is in that draws his eyes towards her constantly. So much so that, when he is not looking at the piano keys to change notes and pace, his eyes flicker towards the balcony consistently, drinking in the sight of her. She looks like she is enjoying herself very much; he feels envy at her peace, and pride that it is his music that has inspired the expression on her face.

It is not until his composition reaches a quicker stanza that he notices the strangest observation about her; perhaps the observation that engraves her into his memory forever.

A movement at the bottom of the seat draws his eyes; she is tapping her foot to the beat of the music, and he realizes her shoes have been kicked under the seat.

She is barefoot.

**.. ღ ..**

When he finally ends his last composition, polite applause rises again, and he sighs in relief as he is finally allowed to exit the stage, though not before a quick bow.

As he rushes to the curtains, his eyes flicker one last time to the woman in the balcony. He sees her bend over, grab her shoes from underneath her seat, slip them on, and then slip her arm through that of the gentlemen who has been seated next to her throughout his performance.

Her lover, perhaps?

He is given no chance to ponder, however, as Matsumoto suddenly crushes his head to her chest the minute he exits.

"Oh, Shiro!" she squeals, forgetting, in her excitement, to address him properly, as he so frequently demands of others. "That was so beautiful. I almost had tears in my eyes! And that applause! They loved you!"

He pushes himself out of her choke hold.

"Matsumoto!" he growls in irritation. "Please behave yourself." She has the sense to look sheepish. "If you would please excuse me, I would like to go change now."

"Oh no, Hitsugaya-san," Matsumoto says suddenly. "You can't leave now. There's a party scheduled after this. A lot of the audience members want to meet you."

He raises his eyebrows.

"And when exactly was this decided?"

"Ages ago! Didn't I mention it to you...? Oh."

She looks sheepish once again, and he turns a full-scale glare on her.

"Oh, I am so sorry! Please, please, please don't skip out. Nanao-chan is scary! And she's been planning this for so long."

"One hour," he compromises through pressed lips. "And then I'm leaving, no matter which high corporate sleaze ball I'm talking to."

She knows this is the best she will get.

"Deal."

**.. ღ ..**

_It is her._

That is the only thought that is running through his head the entire hour from the minute he catches sight of her across the room, laughing with the gentlemen from before.

He pays no attention to the business men and investors and corporate hotshots that make their way to him, but, for Matsumoto's sake (because she is shooting him pitiful looks from not too far away), he acts as if he is listening.

He loses sight of her countless times, and only manages to catch glimpses every once in a while from across the crowded party. She is always laughing, and he wonders just _what _is so funny.

He finally gets a chance to find out. Near the end of the party, he catches sight of her and her escort in a conversation with Nanao. Plucking up the courage, he makes his way over.

"Nanao-san," he greets her.

She turns from her conversation and sends him an invite to join them. Of course, he accepts.

"This is Kurosaki Ichigo," she introduces him to the gentleman. "He is a friend of mine and Kyoraku-san's, and we invited him to come view your performance today on our behalf."

He remembers Kyoraku to be the lazy owner of the theater, though he has not seen him at the theater even once, because he is known to skip work whenever the urge arises, leaving poor Nanao to handle _everything – _no wonder she always looks stressed.

"And _this," _Nanao continues, and he feels himself tensing at the introduction he knows is coming, "is his sister, Kurosaki Karin."

He gives her a quick bow with his head, and she does the same, although there is a curious gleam in her eyes. He cannot fathom why.

"Karin here," her brother says, grinning, "is a huge fan of yours. She begged me to beg Nanao for the tickets when she heard you would be playing here. It's our first time seeing your performance live, and you've definitely got talent, kid."

"Thank you, Kurosaki-san," he answers crisply," but I would prefer you address me as Hitsugaya."

The flame haired man simply chuckles.

"Well, Karin," he turns to his sister, and the pianist notices that he is speaking each word clearly and slowly to her, "you want to say something, too? Or did you drag me out here this late just to stand around and stare?"

He does not understand that strange intensity in her eyes; when her brother speaks to her, she focuses intently on his lips, as if afraid of missing a single word.

But perhaps he imagines it, because when she turns to him, there is no sharp focus in her eyes.

"You are very talented, Hitsugaya-san," she compliments. "I enjoy your music very much."

He is startled by her way of speech. It is a mix between a lisp and a slur, punctuated with short breaks between each word, as if she is forcing out each one. Is she foreign? If so, why is her brother without any sort of accent?

"Uh, thank you very much, Kurosaki-san. I am glad you enjoyed my performance."

There it is again; the fixated gaze, on _his _lips this time. However, when she speaks again, there is only a slightly pensive look in them, her brows furrowed.

"Oh, I think you have misunderstood me," she says. "I said I enjoy your music. But, I did not say I enjoyed your performance. In fact, I would say it was a disappointment."

**.. ღ ..**

When the awkward group departs from the silence after that statement, he is the only one still fixated on his spot.

A disappointment? He is? Is he?

His technique had been perfect, his mind clear and focused. So why is he a disappointment? That word will not leave his thoughts.

And suddenly, the confusion is replaced with anger.

Who the hell is she to say he is a disappointment?

After all, she is just a captivating woman with strange speech impediments and honest words. Aside from that, she is nothing special, and nothing separates her from a crowd.

_He _is the famous pianist, the one who is recognized wherever he goes, _he _knows he played perfectly, and _he _will not take this lightly.

He needs to find her again, and set her straight.

"Hitsugaya-san!" he hears Matsumoto calling for him. "Your hour is over. Thank you so much for staying, or I _swear_ Nanao would have found some way to _sterilize_ me. But, you can go home now."

"Matsumoto, it would be rude of me to simply leave in the middle of the party. I will go converse with some others. In fact..."

He spots her again, as he has been frequently throughout the night. Her brother is still speaking to Nanao, and they have been joined by others, but she is heading out the door. Perhaps for fresh air. No matter the reason, he makes to follow.

"But, you said you would only stay for an hour...?" His manager is completely confused by the 180 decision.

"I said no such thing." He smirks at her bewildered expression. "Stop putting words into my mouth." And he departs, leaving her without an explanation.

**.. ღ ..**

"I knew you would come again," she says in her strange way.

"Oh? And why is that?"

"Because you have too much pride. And you let it control you." There is a sneer in her voice, and he feels himself flushing.

"We all have pride. It's not as if I am some sort of oddity for letting it make decisions for me. People do that all the time."

"But you are different from "people," because you let it control you too often, and you know this too."

"I know no such thing."

"Oh? So tell me then, Hitsugaya, if you say it was not pride, then what led you to come and play tonight when it is so obvious that you did not want to?"

He freezes. How could she possibly have known, possibly have seen through his mask? He is sure he was not obvious.

"...commitment," he finally answers.

She smirks again, her eyes holding the hint of a jeer.

"See? There is your pride again. You just cannot bear to admit it, can you?"

"Who are you?" he blurts out.

It is a stupid question – she is Kurosaki Karin, of course – but he feels that there is something more to her; why can she see through him so clearly?

"I'm sorry?" she says, the focus in her eyes going immediately to his fast moving lips; she looks slightly lost.

A little confused, and slightly embarrassed at having to repeat the question he knows is ridiculous, he asks once more. Understanding dawns on her.

"I am...just a concerned fan, you could say." The look in her eyes softens. "I am part of the group that wants to see you make a comeback. Your music used to be so inspirational, and it has changed so recently. When I heard you today, I knew your heart was not in it. It was a disappointment."

There is _that word _again.

'How...could you tell?" he finally asks.

She gives a sad smile.

"It did not move me, like it has for so many years. It was beautiful to listen to, of course, but apart from that, there was nothing special about it."

"But how do I make it special? I've lost my spark already."

She shakes her head in amusement, the sad smile still on her face. Slowly, she reaches for his hands, and holds them palm up in her own.

"In these hands is the power to move people, to inspire them. I know, because you have already done this. All you need is to simply find a way to love the piano once again."

He is exasperated, because he does not understand the message she is trying to convey.

"But _how do I do that?"_

"Well, think for a second. What drew you to the piano in the first place? What was the reason that you decided to pursue it, to practice, and to become great?"

And this question does not stump him.

Instantly, his mind takes him back to a time when he was young. When he and his sister and his grandmother had all lived such carefree lives. When he had seen the pride in his grandmother's eyes as she bragged to her friends about her grandbaby's wonderful talent. When he had seen the joy light up his sister's face as he played a piece just for her.

He wanted to be someone they could look up to, and admire, and be proud of. He still does.

But times have changed. His grandmother passed away years ago, and his sister is married, too busy with her new life to stay in touch. The muse in his life is no longer there, and now, neither is the spark.

He realizes she is still watching him intently, and sighs.

"It does not matter what reason. All I know is that that reason is not in my life any longer."

And to his surprise, she smiles widely. He flicks his eyes away, calming his heart, which had chosen this absurdly random moment to beat faster than the fastest stanza he has ever written.

And he is still fully aware that she _still _has his hands in her grasp. She is warm.

"Well then, Hitugaya-san," she says cheerfully, "the simplest solution to your problem is to find another reason."

Just like that? It is not possible. At least, he does not think it is.

"You are too simple-minded."

She rolls her eyes.

"Tell me, what was your reason?"

He pauses only for a moment before replying, "To make my family happy."

This is when her face falls.

"Oh. Well, I suppose it would be impossible to replace your family. But.." and she suddenly lights up again, "you can still make people happy."

"What-"

"Would it not be enough, Hitsugaya-san, to know that your playing whole-heartedly would make _me _happy?"

_What_?_!_

"What?"

"I know this is a long shot, but I am sure you have _some _devotion to your fans, right? I mean, you played today and came to the party, even though you did not want to."

"That was only for my manager. She insisted."

"So you're saying that you do not care about your fans _at all?_"

When he does not answer, she smiles.

"I could be your reason Hitugaya-san," she says softly. "Forgive me for being so bold, but you have lost someone to encourage you, and if being the one to push you means that you will continue to play as beautifully as you did years ago, then I will gladly be your critic."

"Why does this matter to you?"

She sighs, drops his hands, and steps away. He feels frightened, thinking he has offended her in some way, but when he sees her more clearly, he notices the melancholic look on her face.

"A few years ago," she begins in a whisper, "I was in a bad place. I had...an accident, and it changed everything, not in a good way. Before then, I had never payed attention to anything aside from soccer. And then, one day, I was brooding in my room – that had become my only way of spending my pastime – and...I felt you on the radio."

Felt?

"I still remember putting my hands on the speakers, letting your music flow through them. It was soft, but it was serious. I saw you on TV only a few days later, and I asked my dad about you. He told me about you; how you were a child prodigy with the piano, and that you could play the most difficult pieces, and remember even the longest pieces. I bought your CDs. I used to take them to my room and put my hands on the speakers, and I could "hear" every note. It was the first time since my accident that I felt normal.

"I want to feel normal again, Hitsugaya-san."

**.. ღ ..**

As they head back inside, he grabs her wrist, and turns her to face him; he is well aware now of her strange need to stare at a person's lips as they speak, though he does not give it much thought. Perhaps it is a foreign custom?

"If you're going to be my muse, you'll have to call me Toushiro. Or else it would feel strange."

She gives a light gasp, and then she beams.

"Only if you call me Karin."

He smirks.

"We'll see."

"Hey, not fair!"

He can only smile as he hurries inside, her following him, still sputtering protests.

**.. ღ ..**

It gives him a strange feeling of giddiness to know that at his next performance, she – the girl who knows him and his music so well, and takes it more to heart than even he does – will be listening in. He hopes to make her proud, and so he will give it his best.

**.. ღ ..**

Her brother rushes to her, looking out of breath.

"I was looking everywhere for you," he scolds her. She looks ashamed for worrying him, and he sighs, running his hand through his hair. "Come on. It's getting late. Get your coat; we should get home before Otou-san flips out and reports a kidnapping to the police or something, because Kami knows he's stupid enough to."

She obliges and drapes her coat over her arm, ready to leave.

He does not get a chance to say goodbye; a few friends drop by to bid her and her brother farewell, and so he simply watches from the other end of the room, as he had done earlier.

When she catches his eye, she gives a wave, and he nods his head in acknowledgement, keeping his arms folded across his chest. However, a moment later, he unfolds them, only so he can put a hand over his mouth in shock.

Why?

Because he sees her turn to Nanao, and he sees them hug.

And as they pull back, Nanao touches her lips with her right hand, and puts the back of it down into the palm of the left hand. Then, she makes a "V" with her fingers, and holds them directly in front of her eyes, and moves her hand outwards. Finally, she points to Karin.

"_Good to see you," _she signs.

And Karin, grinning, puts both her hands on her lips, then extends them out, slightly downward, to Nanao.

"_I am very grateful," _she signs back.

And suddenly, he remembers her bare feet planted firmly on the ground vibrating from the speakers, her concentration on the lips of those speaking, her strange accent despite her brother's lack of one, and her special way of "feeling" his music. All of his observations from the night fill his mind, and he comes to the one miraculous conclusion:

She is deaf.

* * *

><p><strong>Ugh! I've totally butchered Karin in this! But there was no way I was going to actually attempt to write how she speaks, because that would simply be offensive. So I made her speak without contractions to show the way she speaks each word clearly and seperately, and now she sounds too <em>proper <em>to be Karin. Oh well, if you just grit your teeth and read through it anyway, then you are absolutely awesome and I love you.**

**Though I've marked this as "Complete," and the summary says it is a one-shot, I'm thinking of making this a two-shot, or maybe a three-shot if I get in the mood, but I'll leave that up to the reviewers to decide. Do you guys just want to leave it at his revelation, and leave this mysterious? Or would you like more insight into their lives, and their future?**

**My inspiration for this was _Yiruma, _who is an amazing new-age South Korean pianist who composes very beautiful music, and _Nightingale _by _Yanni, _because this song is just so breathtakingly peaceful and beautiful. They both remind me of flowing rivers and streams, and chirping birds, and gentle winds, and lying quietly in soft grass. *sigh* If you ever have the time or curiosity, you should check either (or both) out; you won't be sorry if you do!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any of its characters.**

* * *

><p>His thoughts are always plagued by the mysterious Kurosaki he met months prior. After the party, he realizes he has no way to contact her, no way to question her, no way to express his surprise at the shocking truth.<p>

He does not tell a soul about her, wanting to preserve her memory by keeping her his secret, so Matsumoto thinks it weird when he suddenly begins an obsession with learning sign language. He demands that she find some way for him to learn despite his workload. Although puzzled, she still signs him up for classes.

His teacher is very knowledgeable in sign language. Her class quickly excels in their learning, becoming able to communicate with one another easily through hand signals.

"My boyfriend's sister is deaf," she explains when her students praise her talent. "We sign together all the time. She's just graduated high school last year, so she comes to me with a lot of her problems."

He admits he is impressed. It is not long before he gains the skill to be able to speak properly with his reason for rediscovering a love for music, should the need ever arise. Although, as she has already proven, she is very adept at reading lips.

He goes every week without question, squeezing the new language around his busy schedule.

And his schedule is certainly ten times more busier than before he had an encounter with his greatest fan. He obediently attends all rehearsals, stays up late every night composing new music, and gives each performance his best, hoping that she, somewhere out there, notices a positive change.

Matsumoto calls it a miracle. She squeals over each new composition, hugs him boisterously after each show, and schedules parties after each one, linking his new attitude towards the piano with the gathering they attended at Nanao's theater (no one even considers it Kyoraku's theater, despite his ownership, because he is never seen). She does not understand why, but she decides not to question her luck.

Despite his slim chance of seeing her again, he attends each one, forcing down the disappointment when he does not spy the shimmering obsidian hair, or catch a glimpse of her glittering dark orbs, taunting yet encouraging him at the same time, as only they are able to do.

**.. ღ ..**

Matsumoto comes over one morning to discuss his schedule for the month. Although he is irritated at the intrusion at first ("It's six in the freaking morning; get out!"), looking back, he realizes he has his manager to thank for the meeting he had been praying for for months.

She plops herself down on his couch, allowing the papers in her hand to fall onto his coffee table, fly everywhere, and make a large mess in his previously spotless living room. Ignoring the deathly look he is sending her from where he is _still _standing by the front door, she kicks off her heels, and puts her feet up on the cushion, sighing happily as she lies back and relaxes on his sofa.

"Shiro, can you get me some breakfast? I'm starved, and since I've been working _so hard _planning all your recitals, I didn't have time to eat this morning. Thanks, you're a doll!"

"It's Hitsugaya-san," he growls, not even bothering to hide the scowl on his face. There are bags under his eyes from the sleep he has lost as a result of her early morning call, and it has been a very long time since he had a good night's sleep.

Deciding that the sooner they get this exchange over with, the sooner her can get some sleep, he saunters over to the kitchen, though he is sulking as he pulls a pan out of his oven and some eggs from his refrigerator.

He cracks the egg into a bowl, and pulls out some tomatoes, onions, and green peppers to put into an omelet.

"Okay, so next week," Matsumoto calls from the living room, "you have another sign language class. But we also need your new composition, so don't put that off. _Make sure _it's done soon, or we won't have enough time to practice it, or give the accompanists _their _music, so _they _can practice too."

"I'm almost done," he assures her, as he begins chopping onions on a cutting board very quickly, hoping to finish very soon. He feels a little dizzy standing for so long, since he has had no shut-eye, and is practically dead on his feet. But he decides to power through it, or else Matsumoto will not leave.

"Well, _almost done _is not the same as _done," _she chides. "We need it in a couple of days. I'm also scheduling another recital soon."

"I just had one last week!"

"And you're having another one in a few more!"

He grumbles under his breath as he moves onto the tomatoes.

"What was that_?_!"

"Nothing."

"I _heard _you say something. What was it, and _why _won't you tell me?"

"It was nothing."

"Then why won't you tell me?"

"Why do you refuse to just drop it?"

"_Because -_"

"Ouch!"

"What happened_?_!"

Matsumoto is at his side in an instant, the worry eminent on her face as she rushes towards him.

"Nothing. I...only cut myself."

"_Only_?_!_" she screeches. Before he can protest, she grabs his hand. "Why can't you be more careful_?_!"

He is annoyed, and allows it to show on his face.

"It's _your_ fault."

She waves aside the statement.

"Let's not play the blame game. We should get this cut cleaned up."

But neither have the skill, nor the supplies, needed to treat the wound. It is very deep, and very gruesome. The skin has been sliced clean open, and there is blood gushing out. Although he tries his best to keep his poker face, his expression is punctuated with twitches of pain.

Matsumoto is panicked.

"You have a recital coming up! How are you going to play without your hands_?_!"

"Thanks for the concern," he says dryly.

"There's no way we can skip it; the owner of Ayane Records is coming to hear you personally!"

"I'm sure he can reschedule."

She glares at his indifferent attitude.

"No, he can't!" she cries, hotly. "He'll only be in town for a few weeks, and then he's heading back to Sapporo."

"Not my problem."

"Oh, it _will _be your problem if we miss the chance to impress him, because then I'll schedule so many recitals, you'll _try_ to cut your hand again, just to get out of them. He's "_in" _with all the major music companies in Japan. Not to mention, he controls practically every theater in the country. If someone pisses him off, they might as well kiss a music career goodbye."

This is all bantered as the two rush out of his apartment. She is wrapping a towel around his hand to stem the blood flow and pulling him towards her car at the same time.

"Get in. I'm taking you to the hospital. It's not too far."

"It is when it's six-thirty in the morning and everyone is trying to get to work."

She swears loudly, running a hand through her hair as the two seat themselves in her car, and the school kids kissing their mother goodbye across the street stare at her in awe. The mother, however, is sending them a very dirty look as she attempts to cover her children's ears.

"Matsumoto, I'd appreciate it if you not get me kicked out of my apartment for crude behavior."

She simply revs her engine loudly as the two pull away.

**.. ღ ..**

"Slow down! I may not be able to play with a cut on my hand, but I can't play if I'm _dead_ either!"

"We need to get that tended to right away! What if it gets infected and takes twice as long to heal?"

"That's a stop sign!"

"Don't care!"

The lady they almost run over does, though. He can see her in the rear view mirror, waving her cane and screaming obscure words that are no doubt unkind.

"Matsumoto, you just broke a law!"

"And I'm about to break another!" she cries as she slams onto the gas. Her car bolts through the intersection, although their light had turned red a long time ago. The car honks come from every direction. To his embarrassment, she simply rolls down her window, sticks her hand out, and flips them all off as they pass by.

How has a cop _not _stopped them yet?

"Oh sweet Kami, I think you just caused a pileup!"

"Pshaw, a few cuts and bruises never hurt anybody."

"Then why are _we_ speeding through a school zone at 50 mph_?_!"

"Because _we'v_e got a job to keep!"

"Okay, wow, wow! You _have _to stop here. There are children crossing!"

She growls loudly, but slams on the break. They stop just barely five feet from a little kindergarten student who had stopped to tie his shoe in the middle of the road. She breathes deeply and drums her fingers on the steering wheel impatiently as they watch the little boy's mother hurry him along - perhaps she sees the crazed look on the driver's face.

"Look, Matsumoto, this is not acceptable. I don't care about the owner of Ayane -"

"Spare me, Hitsugaya!" she snaps. "I know _you _don't care, but this is _my _job on the line too! There is no way -"

"You just missed our turn."

"Well, _damn it all_!"

But rather than turning around – most likely with an illegal U-turn, if her driving up to this point is anything to go by – she continues driving down the road.

"Where are we going?"

"It'll take too long to turn around and go _all the way back. _I heard about a clinic around here; it's probably closer than the hospital is now."

"Where did you here about that? We've never been to this part of town."

"From Nanao-chan. Apparently, the owner is a friend of hers and Kyoraku-san's."

"Is there anybody those two _don't _know?" he asks incredulously, thinking of his dark-haired beauty.

She does not answer – though there is a small smile on her lips – as she is too busy scouring the area for a clinic.

"I think it was _Kurosawa Clinic, _or something like that..."

**.. ღ ..**

"Oh my gosh! You're Hitsugaya Toushiro, aren't you_?_!" squeals one of the nurses, a surprisingly young female with light brown hair – she is pretty, but not as pretty as a certain bluntly truthful fan of his, he thinks.

"Yes," he sighs, slightly annoyed about the fuss being made, especially when he has an injury that needs attention. In addition, Matsumoto is rocking back and forth on her heels nervously, and it is aggravating him.

"My sister is a _huge _fan of yours! She'll be so excited you're here! So, how can we help you, sir?"

"He cut his hand," Matsumoto says quickly and breathlessly before he can reply. She obviously wants him treated soon.

"Oh, you poor boy! Let's get you fixed up right away!" cries the man in the white coat standing behind the nurse.

He scowls, not liking his doctor one bit.

The man himself, a tall man with a beard stretching across his face and goofy smile, takes no notice of the fact that his patient is very irritated, and simply drags him to a nearby room, forcing him to sit on the clinic bed.

"Yuzu, bring Daddy a bandage. There is no time to waste. Our lovely patient is losing precious blood as we speak!"

His supposed daughter, the same nurse from before, rushes into their room, a first aid kit in her hand.

"Wonderful! That was a new record! Now, help him out. I have to go check on my other patients."

The nurse pouts at her father, but nods in agreement.

"I apologize for my Otou-san," she mumbles as she unwraps the towel around his hand.

"Is he always like this?"

She giggles at his irritated expression.

"More or less. But we all love him anyway."

"We?"

She nods happily.

"Yup! Me, and my brother and sister."

"Speaking of your sister," a loud voice suddenly booms, and the two turn to see the crazed doctor standing in the doorway, "where is she anyway?"

"She's taking a break in the back room. She _did _miss out on breakfast after all, since the ambulance this morning was so unexpected."

"My poor baby's _hungry?_! Oh, what a horrible father I am, letting my children _starve, _just so they can help in my clinic. Masaki, I'm sorry! I've failed you. Please forgive me..."

The lunatic's voice trails away as he bolts away from the room, wiping away the stream of tears running down his bearded cheeks.

A second later, they hear a thud, and then his muffled voice, as if he is holding his hand over a broken nose.

"Oh, boohoo. My daughter is so mean to her beloved daddy!" They do not see this other daughter, but they can hear footsteps walk away as the person attached grumbles to herself.

He thinks it is very admirable that Yuzu's forced smile is _still_ on her face, even after that display.

**.. ღ ..**

"Well, good news, Hitsugaya-san," his nurse informs him after checking over his wound. "Your cut is not _too_ bad. We'll just clean it and bandage it up for you. As long as _you_ keep it clean and bandage it yourself regularly, and keep from straining it and ripping the skin open again, it should heal enough in time for you to play at your recital."

Matsumoto sighs in relief from her chair, putting her hand over her heart and closing her eyes.

He watches as his nurse skillfully applies his bandage, wrapping it tightly, yet not enough to aggravate him. He is impressed with her technique, despite her age.

"You're pretty good at this," he observes. She flushes from the compliment.

"Thank you. I _have _been doing this since I was very young, since my family owns this clinic. The building attached is our house."

The medical treatment ends, and the three occupants of the room exit into the main lobby of the clinic.

A brief movement catches his eye. It is a small figure, clad in the light pink of the nurse's uniform and a dark-haired ponytail. He only sees the back of a person for a second, before they disappear around the corner of the hallway.

Shrugging it off – after all, there are many nurses in the clinic – he turns his attention to his own nurse, who is giving instruction to him.

"I'll get you some fresh rolls of bandages so you can take care of yourself at home," she says, and runs to the back room.

**.. ღ ..**

Matsumoto is speaking with the doctor as they wait in the waiting room for Yuzu to return, as promised. He is standing by the front door, ready to leave as soon as possible.

As he stares out the glass doors, he notices a car pull up, just outside. Two eerily familiar people exit, making their way towards the clinic, and he steps away from the door to allow them entry, though he is staring at them fixedly.

He receives one of the biggest shocks of his life when he sees a head topped with orange hair enter the clinic, followed by his sign language teacher.

"Kurosaki Ichigo? Kuchiki-san_?_"

"Hitsugaya-san?" Kuchiki says at the same time as Kurosaki cries, "Toushiro_?_!"

The orange top turns towards the petite woman, ignoring the glare he is receiving from the musician.

"Rukia, you know Toushiro? How?"

"He's one of the students in my class. How do _you _know him?"

"We met him a few months back, at one of his recitals. The one in Kyoraku-san's theater."

"We?"

"Me and Karin," Kurosaki explains.

His heart flips at the mention of Kurosaki's sister. Is she close by, he wonders, and will he finally get to see her after all this time? He wants to ask, but there are more pressing matters at hand for the moment.

"What are you two doing here? How do you know each other?" he asks.

The strawberry rolls his eyes.

"Duh, this is my family's clinic. Did you _not _see the huge sign hanging right outside that says _Kurosaki Clinic?_"

Truthfully, no, he hadn't, having been too preoccupied with his bleeding hand when he had arrived. But he ignores the jibe and turns towards his teacher for an explanation.

She casually points to the man next to her.

"He's my boyfriend," she explains, and he can hear a hint of pride in the statement. Perhaps Kurosaki hears it too, because he smirks at her in appreciation before slipping his arm around her waist.

The injured pianist, however, takes no notice, as he is suddenly overcome with a twisted feeling in his stomach, the butterflies all fluttering as quickly as possible. If this is _Kurosaki Clinic_, and Kurosaki's girlfriend is Kuchiki, and Kuchiki had once said in class that her boyfriend has a deaf sister...

"Toushiro?"

He whips around at the shocked voice, and gapes at the sight before him.

It is Kurosaki Karin, as beautiful as when he last saw her, dressed in a light pink nurse's outfit and her short hair tied back. She is mirroring the look probably on his own face; shock, disbelief, surprise, happiness (he hopes).

Her confused sister stands behind her, looking from one to the other repeatedly while blinking rapidly, a package filled with bandages in her hand.

After a _long _awkward pause and stare-off, he groans, running his uninjured hand through his hair nervously and licking his lips.

Oh sweet Kami, does life hate him?

After all the times he has spent wishing for this moment, out of every other possible scenario, _why_ did he have to see her again while dressed in pajamas that consisted of a baggy shirt that made him appear skinnier – and scrawnier – than average, loose shorts, and bedroom slippers?

* * *

><p><strong>I know, I know; not the best ending for a chapter ever, and certainly not better than last chapter's. And I know this one wasn't very exciting, but there's a reason for that. I had actually decided to make this just a two-shot, but when I sat down to write this chapter, it got really long - and I mean <em>really long. <em>So I decided to cut off here, and make one more chapter. I hope you enjoyed this one!**

**Okay, be honest. Who totally realized that Rukia was the sign language teacher, and Ichigo's girlfriend, before it was revealed? I had planned on dropping hints at the beginning, but I thought it was pretty obvious without them.**

**I'll be putting up another one-shot soon, but for those of you who have me on alert, it's not a Bleach fic, so please don't get excited...well, unless you like Death Note, and the Mello x Sayu pairing. Then it's okay.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any of its characters.**

* * *

><p>The embarrassment would not be so severe if he did not know that every other time she has ever seen him, he had been dressed cleanly in professional and formal attire. He had hoped that the humiliation would slowly dissipate as they had made their way into her home, but the look on her face tells him otherwise.<p>

He grits his teeth and pretends he does _not _notice the flush creeping up his neck as she eyes his attire in amusement, finally reaching his own eyes as she leans against her kitchen counters.

"Can I get you something to drink?" she asks nonchalantly with a hand placed on her hip, obviously trying to keep the humor from her face and not succeeding. "Water, or tea maybe?"

"Tea," he mumbles, looking away in embarrassment. Only a second later, the thought comes to him that the girl he is speaking to has special needs when conversing with a person, and looks at her worriedly, afraid she had missed his words. She simply smirks, amused once again at his panicked expression, and turns away from him and towards her kitchen counters instead.

He watches carefully as she pulls out a packet of green tea from one of her cupboards, then reaches for the kettle set on the stove. She notices his scrutiny and finally laughs.

"It's not like it is _that _hard to differentiate between two very different words like 'tea' and 'water,'" she tells him pointedly.

He nods understandingly, though still on guard, afraid of slipping in some other way.

"Karin-chan!"

He jumps at the high-pitched squeal, but does not have to strain himself to guess who it is; sure enough, a large mass of orange hair suddenly jumps at Karin, the arms of Matsumoto wrapping around her in a tight hug from behind, her breasts pressed against her back. Karin looks completely shocked at the bold display.

His manager makes a large show of slowly cradling her face in her hands and turning the girl's head forcibly to face her eyes towards her lips.

"It's _so_ nice to _meet_ you," she says slowly, emphasizing each syllable. "_My_ name is _Matsumoto Rangiku_. _Can you understand_ what I'm _saying_ to you?"

Karin simply looks past her, turning her wide, confused eyes on him. He sighs in aggravation.

"Matsumoto, stop that," he tells her sternly. "I told you she could read lips." The orange top simply pouts.

"I just wanted to know how well. It wouldn't do for me to say 'Karin' and for her to think I said _'lingerie.' _She'd think I'm some sort of sex addict."

"_No one_ would make that mistake!" he growls.

"And now I know _she _won't, because I tested her!" she argues. "_Kami, _Shiro, do you have to take the fun out of _everything_?"

"It's Hitsugaya-san."

"Um, hey?"

Both jump at the interruption, and the raven haired Kurosaki grimaces.

"Matsumoto-san, right?" she says, and sticks out her hand. "Kurosaki Karin."

Matsumoto beams as she grabs her hand and shakes it vigorously.

"Oh, please, call me Rangiku," she insists, no longer worried for her speech. He rolls his eyes.

"Ran...giku," she tries out slowly.

"Good, good," his manager praises, watching her in awe. He scowls, and crosses over to them in two strides before furiously pulling their still-joined hands apart.

"Matsumoto, stop staring at her like that," he reprimands, dropping Karin's hand but keeping Matsumoto's in his own, to keep her from doing anything foolish again. "She's not some animal on display."

Her eyes widen slightly at his harsh look, and she quickly glances at Karin, who appears baffled at his sudden action. Her eyes roam over the nurse's face, as if searching for any sign that she agrees with his words, but her hurt expression freezes as she stares at the girl, as if seeing her for the first time. And then, a surprisingly tender – and slightly sly – smile splits across her face. Suddenly, she is pulling him into a hug, and cooing in his ear jubilantly.

"Aww, are you looking out for your little girlfriend? You're such a _sweetheart_. Shiro to the rescue!"

"Wha –_ that's not it! _Stop making things up, Matsumoto. I'm only saying what she's too polite to say."

Karin smirks at this last statement; what a reverse of the usual. However, he catches sight of it, and misinterprets the look as one of amusement.

"You're supposed to say something," he tells her furiously. She simply blinks innocently, but still does not speak up, obviously enjoying the scene now that she knows he is uncomfortable.

"She doesn't have to," Matsumoto squeals. "I completely understand."

"No, _you don't_," he grumbles, rubbing his forehead in aggravation. "That's the entire problem."

"No, no. No need to hide anything from me, Shiro." There is a mischievous glint in her eyes and smile that he does not like. "I actually recognize her now."

"Y-you do?" He gulps.

"Yup!" She sounds proud of herself. "Isn't she that girl you were talking to at the party a few months back? The one in Nanao-chan's theater?"

"You were there, too?" Karin asks, scrunching her forehead in an attempt to remember the busty woman.

"Yup! Though we didn't talk. But we can catch up now."

"I would love that."

He groans, knowing their relationship will not mean any good for him. It does not help that Matsumoto hears him and sends a very mischievous smile his way.

"Ne, Karin-chan?" she says, getting closer to the young girl with excitement in her eyes. "I have a question already."

"Shoot," Karin replies, leaning against the counter again by placing her elbows on the top and leaning back.

"How does a deaf person..." she trails off, placing her fingers on her chin to signify she is thinking about how to phrase her question. He stiffens, not liking where this is going. "How do you like his music if you can't hear it?"

"Matsumoto!" he cries, aghast at her insensitive question. "What do you think you're -"

"It's alright," Karin cuts him off. When he sends her an apologetic look from behind his manager, she only sends him a reassuring one before returning to the conversation. "To answer your question, I _can _feel the beat of music, if it's really loud. And his piano playing is very easy to feel through vibrations, particularly because I've heard the piano dozens of times before I _lost_ my hearing. If I place myself close to speakers, it's easy to understand the softness or intensity of it, depending on what he plays."

He thinks back to the night when he first met her, and feels a jolt when he realizes that she had indeed been seated next to speakers positioned by the balcony as she had enjoyed his playing. There had been so many little hints of her deafness, so many signs that could have told him she was so much more special than he had initially thought that night – why hadn't he payed closer attention?

"Kind of like how when you lose one of your senses, the others become stronger?" Rangiku asks, watching her in wonder once again. Karin beams.

"Yes. My sense of touch, I suppose, is stronger, so I feel pulses with my skin, which can soothe or excite me, just as _listening _to music was once able to do. It's almost like...have you ever heard of Beethoven?"

"That deaf composer, right?" The orange top looks proud of herself for remembering. He watches her smirk with exasperation.

"That's the one. Well, he would take off the legs of his piano, set the piano and himself on the floor, and compose music even after he lost his hearing, because he knew that each key had a different sound and, therefore, vibration."

"That's_ amazing,_" she whispers in response, and her eyes are actually _shining_ with wonder. Karin forces an awkward smile in response to her staring. She, however, is saved when the busty woman chooses to swerve in his direction. "Shiro, your girlfriend is _so cool._"

"I already told you that she's not my girlfriend!" he snaps at her, closing his eyes in frustration.

"If she's not your girlfriend," comes a sudden voice from the doorway, "then why did you take all those sign language classes, Hitsugaya-san?"

"Excellent point, Rukia-chan," Matsumoto agrees excitedly, beaming at the woman leaning against the door frame before rounding on him.

"_Why did you take all those classes?" _she repeats with added emphasis.

He looks around hopelessly, wanting to find an escape route from the questions – _this _question particularly.

"I thought to educate myself," he makes up.

"Right, because with your job, coming across deaf people is the norm," Matsumoto says sarcastically, rolling her eyes and waving a dismissive hand at his lame excuse.

"It's happened once," he argues.

"And I'll bet my sake that it won't happen again."

"Well, actually," Karin interrupts, looking apologetically at the older woman, "I _do_ have some deaf friends who like his music, though they knew him before they lost their hearing."

He smirks, an evil glint in his eyes.

"What was that about betting your sake, Matsumoto?" he asks, hiding his excitement at catching the woman off-guard. Said woman's eyes widen, and then she begins to laugh in an unnaturally loud voice about _'just joking' _and _'you take everything too seriously.'_

**.. ღ ..**

The arrival of Matsumoto having distracted the two since their initial conversation, Karin realizes she has forgotten to set the tea on the stove. Matsumoto and Rukia eagerly place an order as well, and she doubles the previous amount.

His manager refuses to leave her be and follows her around the kitchen as she sees to this task, chatting nonstop. The young nurse chooses to purse her lips and allow her to jibber jabber, throwing in a few words here and there once she gets the chance, so as not to appear as if she is completely ignoring the woman, though he has a slight suspicion that that is _exactly_ what she is doing most of the time. Smart girl.

"And wait until I tell my friends that I got tea from a _deaf person. _Oh, they'll be so jealous."

Her rude and insensitive comments are painful and embarrassing to listen to, though he should have seen this coming; he knows she is used to simply saying whatever she wants, since he chooses to tolerate her nonsensical words in an attempt to avoid a commotion.

"Well, I'm not _that _great," Karin informs her, trying hard to steer the conversation in a different direction. He grimaces. "I am actually very bad at cooking. Yuzu, my sister, actually gave me _lessons _on how to make tea, so I could do so when we had company without burning down the house."

"It's actually almost happened once," Rukia informs him once seeing his incredulous expression. "We didn't let her near the stove for _months._"

The two are at the opposite end of the room, though have been standing in silence for the most part, watching the scene. Now, however, his teacher seems to remember quite a few words.

"Hitsugaya-san, what exactly is your relationship with her?" she demands, narrowing her gaze onto him. He raises an eyebrow.

"Excuse me, Kuchiki-san?" She sighs, licking her lips abruptly.

"Look, I'm sure you know by now that Karin isn't like normal girls, and I don't just mean the deafness." He nods slowly, not sure where this is going. "She's...special, though she refuses to admit it herself. And so I need to know, what exactly are your intentions?"

He is taken aback, and she grins at the look on his face.

"I know this might seem strange, but trust me, it's better to get this talk from me now than from Ichigo later. He's foolishly overprotective of both his sisters...As am I," she adds thoughtfully. "But I can be reasonable."

"And by that you mean..."

"I mean that I'm willing to stand aside and allow Karin to explore her life herself, unlike my idiot of a boyfriend. Ever since she lost her hearing, Ichigo feels a constant need to watch over her."

"Wait," he interrupts, an uneasy feeling pulling at him, especially when he remembers a detail Karin herself had earlier mentioned. "Karin wasn't born with her deafness?"

She looks at him in surprise.

"You mean she hasn't told you? Hmm, maybe you two are not as close as I originally thought."

For some reason, he cannot help but be deeply annoyed by these words, which imply that Karin does not trust him enough to let him into her life, the way he has let her into his. It's true that it took much guesswork and coaxing on her part to finally convince him to open up, however slightly, but he feels much happier since her entrance into his secrets, and he wishes the same for her. Though, of course, he does not tell his teacher this.

"We've only met once," he points out, only somewhat defensively.

"Only once? And you still took all those classes? Not that I'm complaining – it was great for my business."

He feels heat creep up his neck. Yes, she had left enough of an impact after only that one meeting for him to develop an interest in sign language. He does not wish to voice such an embarrassingly personal reason, and only clears his throat awkwardly.

Rukia notices his discomfort, and smirks.

"Alright, alright. If it makes you so uncomfortable, I won't push the issue." Her smile softens. "I can see that you're sincere about her, and she's happy with you too, so that at least puts me at ease. It'll make Ichigo happier too, to know that you don't have any bad intentions, though I wouldn't suggest you let you guard down around him at anytime. But I'll trust you with her, Hitsugaya-san."

The whole scene rather reminds him of a father giving away his daughter for marriage, and thankfully he is saved from having to answer by Matsumoto's nosy personality.

"So, what are we talking about, gang?" she asks cheerfully, skipping over to them. She has Karin's hand in her own death grip to prevent escape, and the young nurse is scowling bitterly at her back.

With an aggravated sigh, he grabs their joined hands for the second time, and roughly pulls them apart, briefly patting Karin's gently because it is most probably throbbing in pain. He has experience with Matsumoto's vice-like grips.

"Oops, sorry, Karin-chan!" his manager cries, pulling said woman into a choking hug and causing her scowl to become darker. "Sometimes I don't know my own strength!"

Rukia notices his tender action and smiles gently at him, reassured. Once his manager and her new "prey" turn away, the midget jokingly sends him a stern glare.

"You take good care of her, you hear?"

This time, he nods seriously, but before he can say anything, they are interrupted once again, this time by the sound of steam whistling out of the forgotten kettle perched on the stove.

Karin, however, cannot hear it, and simply seems confused when the three jump at the sudden noise. With a weary sigh, he gently places his hands on her shoulders – Matsumoto squeals, Kuchiki smirks, he ignores them – and turns her towards the stove.

**.. ღ ..**

Yuzu had been right. By the day of the recital, he can use his hand without any bouts of pain.

Matsumoto orders that he remove his bandage for the performance, thinking it a horribly ugly accessory and very unprofessional. She has too much of a one-track mind concerning her job to care about his well-being right now.

On the day of the recital, the two drive over extra early; she is overly excited about the prospect of impressing _the _Ayane Hibiki and, in an effort to maintain a good impression, decides that punctuality is one of the best ways to do so. He thanks Kami that the recital is late at night; he could _not _have handled another early morning call at six in the morning, especially after the last one had been punctuated with his embarrassment.

The owner of the theater is just as enthusiastic as his manager. The balding man meets them in the parking lot, and shakes both of their hands vigorously, staring at Hitsugaya with admiration shining in his eyes. The object under scrutiny grimaces at the reaction, ironically not enjoying being the center of attention.

Matsumoto apparently immediately understands his expression, because she hurriedly takes over the conversation, catching the owner's attention and forcing him to turn away from the disgruntled pianist.

The theater owner presents him with a large dressing room, offering him any services he requires before leaving him and Matsumoto to themselves.

"Nervous?" she asks from her place on the sofa.

He shrugs as he adjusts the collar of his dress shirt.

"It's only a recital," he remarks indifferently. "I've played so many already."

"But this one is not just _any _recital – it's for the owner of _Ayane Records._" Her eyes take on a dreamy quality as she sighs the last two words, looking rather like the star-struck owner of the theater. Hitsugaya feels slightly sorry for Ayane Hibiki.

"He's just a person," he argues. She looks at him, aghast.

"_Just a person? _How many times do I have to tell you the same thing before you finally realize what a big deal he is; he is _the _icon in music. Your goal tonight is to impress him, dazzle him, make him beg you to perform in his theaters and at his dinner parties. And then we'll be so stinking rich!"

She laughs as she lies back on the couch, placing her arms behind her head and excitedly imagining a glamorous lifestyle of a large mansion, hot male butlers, and fifty sports car in her garage. He simply rolls his eyes.

"I do not want to be _stinking rich,_" he claims, his lips curling slightly as he repeats her crude wording.

Her smile is replaced with a frown at his words, but she is smart enough not to comment. However, she _does_ pout.

**.. ღ ..**

"How about we go out there and have a quick practice, huh? You could test out the acoustics of the room, and perfect your playing."

"I've practiced enough yesterday. I do not need anymore."

"Yes, but what if the echo in the room makes the sound different? You need to adjust your playing."

"I've played in rooms that size before. I know what it will sound like."

She gives him an exasperated sigh, put out by his flippant attitude only an hour before the show.

"I'm going to have a look around the theater. I'll be back before the show."

This announcement is met with his uncaring gaze, and she huffs in irritation before heading out the door.

He loves Matsumoto, he really does. But sometimes she expects too much from him. He is only just rediscovering his love for music and the piano, and needs time to reconnect with the passion that had existed before. For now, keeping an indifference at times seems to be the only solution to avoid feeling smothered by the instrument once again. Her insistence of late night practices and her over ecstatic enthusiasm does not appeal to him.

He has always liked taking things his own pace. Going slower does not mean nothing gets done, and taking a different route that most would take themselves does not mean he will not accomplish as much as he had before, or possibly more. And so his manager's overzealous attitude grates his nerves sometimes, though he could never tell her this, for fear of upsetting her.

His shoulders remain tense as he first seats himself on the sofa in an attempt to relax, and then begins pacing the room, the thoughts in his head too jumbled to allow comfort. In an effort to distract himself, he rummages through his bag, which is placed on the dresser, and pulls out his sheet music. He shuffles through the pages, fingering the language of music written atop each page, and even the quick notes he himself has placed to assist him with his playing.

His techniques helps, and soon, he seats himself on the chair tucked into the dresser, and begins reviewing his sheets of music. It would be a nostalgic sight for those who knew him when he first began his career, when he would pour over each musical number with enthusiasm. Though his face now is masked beneath a straight expression, his eyes and his hands express the same joyful conviction of the time.

In fact, at one point he feels particularly whimsical, and goes as far as propping his sheet music up against the mirror, closing his eyes, and letting his fingers fly over the wooden dresser in the pattern he has practiced daily in preparation for today, playing an imaginary piano conjured in his own mind. He makes music by humming the tune he will play tonight, and a small smile even tugs at his pale lips.

Well, until he hears someone snicker behind him. Dropping his hands to his sides immediately, he swerves in his chair, and is mortified to find Kurosaki Karin standing in the doorway. She has one hand placed on the doorknob still, the other curled into a fist and nestled on her hip, and a small smirk of amusement planted on her face.

"Please, don't stop on my account," she assures him, waving the hand previously on her hip at him airily. She is biting her lip in an attempt to stop her laughter, though her eyes are moistening with tears, dampening the effort a bit. He clears his throat very loudly in an attempt to recollect himself.

"I didn't hear you come in," he informs her, trying to save face. She playfully rolls her eyes.

"And _I'm _supposed to be the one that cannot hear."

"What are you doing back here, anyway?" he asks, a hint of a smile on his face. Though he had been smart enough to offer her a ticket to his performance, then write down her phone number – ignoring the pleased smirks from the two busybodies who had been hellbent on picturing the two together – and text her over the phone as much as possible, it is nice to see her in person again.

She beams.

"Just came to wish you luck," she answers as she closes the door behind her. He takes in the slim, pale purple dress that is draped across her figure, and admits she looks very nice, especially with her obsidian hair in a tame ponytail.

"Don't need it," he replies, acting cocky. She laughs.

"I know. But a little extra luck never hurt anybody."

"Matsumoto seems to think the same thing. She's worried I'll make a fool of myself out there tonight, though I've been playing in front of crowds since I was thirteen."

She smirks as she remembers the woman's antics a few weeks prior.

"Your manager is very...interesting," she comments. He grimaces at her and she chuckles. "She's very peppy, isn't she? Not at all what I thought a manager of yours would be like."

"I've known her since I was little," he admits. "She used to live in my neighborhood, and she was the one who got me interested in piano in the first place."

"Does she play?"

"No. But she _did _have a very large grand piano in her living room, strictly for decoration purposes." She laughs at the look of exasperation on his face at the woman's money wasting antics. "When I was little, my family went to visit her – trying to be good neighbors – and I sat at the piano and just started hitting random keys in boredom. She was _convinced _I had a special gift, and persuaded my grandmother to sign me up for lessons."

"So having her in your life has been a good thing, after all, huh?"

"I...suppose," he admits, though begrudgingly, and with a sigh. She chuckles and places a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Oops, am I interrupting something?"

He fully expects to see Matsumoto's smirking face when he turns to glare at the intruder, which is why he is puzzled to find a man he does not know.

"Who are you?" he asks, and is a little disappointed when Karin turns to see what has caught his attention, and then steps away from him.

"Oh, just a big fan," the man replies, grinning boyishly at him. It matches his young face very well, though he exudes a pompous air, especially with one hand tucked in his suit's pocket. "And who are you, young lady? A girlfriend, perhaps?"

Karin laughs, though mostly because she finds his attitude and the air about him funny.

"Kurosaki Karin," she replies, and they watch as the visitor's face twists in understanding at her strange speech; it seems childish, but he feels annoyed that this strange man has figured out her deafness so quickly, especially when it had taken him so long. "And I'm just a friend."

It's strange that he feels happy at her words; she thinks of him as a friend! He had been hoping they were closer since their second meeting, and her confirmation makes him relieved.

"Well, it's very nice to meet you, Karin-chan," the still unknown visitor says in what he probably thinks is a suave voice, and wastes no time in striding over to her, grabbing her hand, and placing a soft kiss on the back of it.

She wrenches it out of his grip, and the young pianist catches sight of her disgusted expression before she masks it with a forced smile. He scowls, not liking their exchange one bit, especially because it makes her uncomfortable; however, his fan does not seem to realize it.

"Ah, forgive me," he says, in response to her pulling away. The pianist seems to have been all but forgotten. "I'm getting ahead of myself."

"It's okay," she replies. "I should be getting to my seat, anyway. Nice to meet you, and I'll see you later, Toushiro." She can't seem to get out of there fast enough, though she does throw her friend an incredulous look first.

"Bye-bye," the man calls after her cheerfully but quietly, because he knows she cannot hear. He even waves his hand at her retreating back. However, when she has disappeared, he nudges the irritated musician. "She's a real bombshell, eh? A little plain, but still nice to look at. I wouldn't mind getting a seat next to _her_."

"Sir," he interrupts, sharply, "I would appreciate it if you not talk about my friend that way."

"Oh, come on, Hitsugaya-san. You're a man, aren't you? You can't tell me you haven't ever wanted to..." And instead of completing the sentence, he wolf-whistles, jabbing a thumb at the door where she has just exited.

He glares at the offending man, not at all pleased with this statement. He does not care if the man takes offense; he does not want fans like him anyway.

But the idiot does not realize his words are not appreciated.

"It's just a shame that..." he trails off, a smirk on his face as his eyes finally stray from the door and land on the young musician beside him.

His curiosity is piqued, though his stomach twists in dread at what he thinks is coming next.

"...what?"

"Well...you know, that she's..."

And he holds up a finger and points to his ear, winking as the smirk grows more pronounced.

There is another twist, not just in his stomach this time, but also the organ pumping – twice as heavily and fast now – beneath his ribcage.

The pianist uncrosses his arms, his hands becoming fists at his sides, a frightening scowl on his face. How _dare _he criticize her, the most pure soul he has ever met? The only one to understand him, encourage him, know what he needs to hear, and not expect anything in return, expect that he excel?

"I'm sorry, _sir,_" he says through pressed lips and gritted teeth, "but I don't seem to understand what you are trying to tell me. Is there some sort of a _problem?_"

"Now, now, there's no need to get so offended," the man says holding his hands in front of his chest for his own defense. He, for the first time, looks a little uncomfortable, though he is still trying to keep the playful smirk on his face. "I just think that a world class pianist such as yourself can do better than..."

"Than _what?_" he snarls, his lips baring back over his teeth as he steps closer, his fists so tight his fingernails are digging into his palms. The smirk is now completely gone. Instead, his eyes are flitting around the room, as if attempting to find an escape route from this situation.

"Well, um...than damaged goods -"

_Bam!_

"You fucking _ass_!"

_Bam!_

"Who the hell are _you -_"

_Bam!_

"_- _to call her -"

_Bam!_

"_-_ _damaged goods?_!"

He does not care that his roars – and the bastard's cries of pain – can probably be heard by the entire theater. He does not care that each time his fist makes fierce contact with the man's face, there is a sickening crack, followed by a spurt of blood gushing out of the man's nose. He does not care that each punch leads to a sharp pain in his hand, his wound aching from the stress of the action.

All he cares about is making this _man –_ if he deserves to be called that – _pay _for his words, for his jeers, for his _crimes._

"Hitsugaya, what the _hell _are you _doing?_!"

He barely registers Matsumoto standing in the doorway, her eyes bulging and her hands over her mouth in utter shock.

"Please, stop," the man wheezes, his hands over his face in an effort to block.

Surprisingly, he does. But he is still standing over the man now on the floor, his breathing heavy, and his expression strained, as if he is trying to keep from lunging again.

"Matsumoto, get him out of my _sight,_" he hisses, breathing heavily through his nose. Though seemingly terrified, she rushes towards them and grabs the offender by his shoulders, gently leading him out, but not before throwing a worried look at him over her shoulder.

He ignores her, his arms still fists at his side, his gaze still lowered to the ground, his teeth still gritted.

How could _anyone _ever say such things about her? She is just so wonderful in his eyes, and though he has come to know lately that she can be a little rough around the edges when it comes to something she cares about, he also knows that she is always whole-hearted and determined in everything. Which means she is his most sincere fan, his most dear friend, and the most perfect person in his life, despite what anyone else might say.

He does not regret what he has just done.

"Toushiro...?"

The sudden voice makes him jump, and he is almost afraid to lift his eyes from the ground, to face _her._

"I was on my way to my seat from the bathroom, and I passed Rangiku," she explains. He can feel her eyes trained on him. A quick glance tells him they are narrowed, watching him and trying to decipher the meaning of his pose, and its connection with what she has seen. "That man was with her and he was...what _happened?_"

Uncurling his fists, he strides over to her briskly, a determined look on his face, his shoes tapping loudly on the floor under the weight of his heavy footsteps.

When he stands toe-to-toe with her, he places his hands suddenly onto her shoulders, pulling her a little closer, locking his gaze with her wide-eyed one. He hesitates with his words, not being one for sentimental notions, but _needing _to make this clear to her, in light of what has just occurred.

"Karin, you're perfect just the way you are, and don't you dare let anyone tell you otherwise."

* * *

><p><strong>Edit: A thousand and one thanks to Hakkuchi-chan for catching my mistake! Yes, Karin is deaf and can't talk on the phone. I meant <em>text, <em>but even _I _sometimes forget that I made her deaf, and have to add little signs of it whenever I remember ^^' Well, I've fixed it now. Once again, thank you very much!**

**Hooray! I finally updated! Sorry it took so long everyone, but I was having trouble getting the words out to say what I wanted to say, _how _I wanted to say it. I still didn't do a very good job in my opinion, but this was the best that I could do with the guilt following me everywhere about not updating for so long. I hope you guys don't mind, since this one is so long (well, longer than the others). In fact, it was getting so long, that I cut out some scenes once again, to put in the next chapter.**

**Which brings me to my next point: there will be another chapter! At this point, I don't know _how many _more I'm going to write. Ugh, why can't everything work out the way I wanted it to?**

**Many of you were looking forward to Matsumoto and Rukia's teasing, so I did my best. I also tried to clear up some misunderstandings about Karin's condition, though there _will _be a deeper conversation about that coming up (that was one of the scenes I cut out). In this one, I tried to incorporate the many different reactions people have once they learn of a person's deafness; there are people who pity them, people who make fun of them, and people who treat them so differently, despite how wrong it is. Anyway, I hope you liked it!**


	4. Chapter 4

**In case you didn't see my edit in the last chapter: Thank you so much, Hakkuchi-chan, for catching my mistake. Yup, since Karin is deaf, she can't talk on the phone. I meant _text_, and I've fixed that now. Once again, thank you!**

**Phew, I managed to get this done. It is, without a doubt, the longest chapter I've ever written - over 8,000 words! Really, it's a miracle that I wrote it in only a week and a half. Well, enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any of its characters.**

* * *

><p>No matter how much they ask, he refuses to let either Matsumoto <em>or <em>Karin know the exact events that transpired between the two gentlemen in his dressing room. Karin applies fresh bandages to his wound, informing him that, fortunately, it has not reopened, but, unfortunately, he must wear it on stage, against Matsumoto's initial wishes. Though she hardly seems concerned about that as they follow him out of the room, badgering him with questions. But when he reaches the side of the stage, he only gazes at them coldly.

"If you'll excuse me," he says curtly, cutting across their inquiries, "I have a recital to perform."

Before anyone can object, he pushes his way past them, heading out to stand center stage, where they can hardly follow. The polite applause immediately begins, and he bows respectfully before seating himself on the piano bench. Ignoring the heated gazes he can feel trained on him from backstage, he lets his fingers fly over the keys soon after. The audience settles into their seats, ready to enjoy the lulling sounds of the instrument and his skillful technique.

But both Matsumoto and Karin see it almost instantly – his shoulders are tense and, though his fingers flow nimbly and quickly over the keys, his arms remain rigid as he changes position constantly. His brow remains scrunched in concentration, which alarms them greatly; his face has always been completely smooth and stoic when playing, part of the reason why his performances always seem effortless and more majestic. So, they know from the very beginning that something is wrong.

He is still blazingly furious on the inside.

"His playing is different now," Matsumoto tells Karin after catching her attention with a nudge, acting the most serious she has ever been around the young woman. Karin bites her lip, unable to experience it firsthand as there are no speakers near by because she had not wanted to leave his side to go to her seat. So, she instead urges the busty woman to continue with her observations, staring at her lips apprehensively. "More...quick, as if he's anxious. We know he's angry, and so he's pressing the keys harder than he did during practice. This song is supposed to be light and happy – he wrote it right after meeting you, after all." She grins, momentarily distracted but instantly somber once again.

"But if he continues this way," Karin continues slowly, finishing her thought, "it'll only ever convey anger." Matsumoto's response is to press her lips into a thin line.

Karin looks out onto the stage worriedly, concern etched into every outline of her face.

**.. ღ ..**

The audience notices a change too, at some point, though it takes them a considerably longer time. Those who have heard the song before begin to murmur, confused by the sudden animosity in the sounds that were once so soothing. Some shift in their seats uncomfortably. When the composition ends, they only clap because of expected manners, some still gazing at the musician warily, unsure of what is coming next.

He sighs deeply on stage. Of course, he himself had heard the sudden and hostile change in his sound. And yet, he cannot make himself simmer down, to stop this strange wrath that seems to be engulfing him, taking over his actions. A little helplessly, he glances to the stage curtains, and accidentally makes eye contact with Karin.

She looks slightly taken aback as their gazes meet, only blinking at him for a moment. But then, obviously unable to let things be the way they are, she holds her hands in front of her.

He watches in bemusement as they rise, palms up, with her shoulders, and drop, palms down, with her shoulders. It seems absolutely absurd, until he catches sight of her heaving chest and the _'o' _shape of her mouth, and he pieces it all together.

_Deep breaths, _she is advising him. _Calm down._

Unable to help the smirk on his face, he follows along with her breathing, his grin widening as he feels himself begin to relax, ever so slightly. It is as if they are the only ones in the theater – no audience members judging him, no Matsumoto biting her nails anxiously. As he focuses only on her, forces himself to think of no one but her – even the despicable man he has just attacked leaves his mind – he feels his anger dissipate.

The two continue their small and secret act until the scattered applause of his audience members finally ends. He lifts his large hands to the keys once again, finally tearing his gaze away from the smiling and encouraging face in the shadows backstage.

His shaky start is all but forgotten soon enough as he strikes a soothing melody with his feather light fingers. Remembering to breathe deeply now and then keeps him calm, and his playing reflects. The audience smiles, settling down once again and enjoying this new piece.

Karin turns to Matsumoto for feedback.

"Much better," she assures her, smiling slyly at the memory of their cute little exchange.

As the song comes to a close, Toushiro looks up from his piano, locking eyes with her once again. _'Thank you,' _he mouthes discretely in her direction, and continues to do so at the finale of every composition. After six more _'thank yous'_, he finally stands from his bench, bows to the clapping, and briskly walks backstage.

**.. ღ ..**

Both Karin and Matsumoto beam at him upon his arrival and clap his back in encouragement. He looks over to his proud fan – the only one who matters – and raises an eyebrow.

"You're welcome," she finally answers him, and he nods in return.

"Good job, Karin-chan!" his manager squeals, boisterously hugging the poor woman.

"Karin?" he questions, cocking an eyebrow. "Wasn't I the one who just played a recital to a live audience?"

Matsumoto winks over at him, still clutching a struggling Karin to her bosom.

"Yes, but if not for our dear Karin-chan's help, you would have made a complete mess of things. I _told _you you needed more practice, didn't I?"

He rolls his eyes at her scolding, striding over to the two of them and gently prying Karin free from her choke hold – it seems like his official job now, playing keep away with the two of them. She gasps loudly as she is freed, patting her chest slightly to reassure herself.

"Karin-chan, you were amazing," his childhood neighbor praises, locking her hands behind her back and leaning forward. "Able to calm Shiro-chan like that."

"It's Hitsu -"

"It wasn't very difficult," Karin rebukes. "I've never been good at calming people, only riling them up. Yuzu is good at it, though, so I just did what she does with a hysterical patient."

The orange top bursts out laughing, throwing her head back, and Karin smirks, pointedly ignoring his gaze. He scowls at the side of her head, not sure how he feels about being compared to a mentally unstable visitor to a hospital.

"Excuse us," a soft voice interrupts them. He and Matsumoto snap to attention, swirling around to the source, and Karin follows suit in her confusion at their sudden action. All three find themselves peering at a strange, unknown newcomer; a stoic man dressed in a pressed suit, his hands hanging stiff and straight at his sides. Despite the gray hairs covering his head, he looks young, only a few wrinkles under his eyes disrupting the otherwise smoothness of his face. There is a powerful aura radiating from him – this is, no doubt, a wealthy man with great influence.

When he hears Matsumoto gasp, he has his suspicions, and they are soon confirmed when their visitor holds out a hand in greeting. "Hello, Hitsugaya-san. I am Ayane Hibiki, owner and founder of Ayane Records, the music company."

He reaches out to meet his handshake, and is surprised by the firmness of his grip.

"Ayane-san," he replies, bowing respectfully to the elder in addition to the handshake. "Pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Likewise," Ayane returns formally, breaking the grip to return to his professionally poised stature. "I would like to extend my congratulations on a wonderful and very enjoyable performance tonight."

"Thank you, sir," he replies graciously, inclining his head in acknowledgement and waiting to hear the rest of his words.

"I was very impressed by your playing tonight," the man adds, his straight face and voice not changing, even during a compliment. "With the magnificence of your hands, I can certainly see a bright future ahead for a partnership between you and my company."

He can bet Matsumoto is just _itching _to jump up and down and cheer loudly in happiness – he can practically feel her excitement being given off in waves from behind him.

"But," Ayane continues, "I regret to inform you, there is still a very serious matter left for us to discuss."

In response to the pianist's quizzical look, he turns his torso slightly, drawing their attention to a small figure hunched in the shadows behind him, unseen by any of them, most likely because he seems to have been _trying _to blend and completely vanish into the darkness. Even now, he squeaks slightly and backs away, eyeing Toushiro warily and refusing to say a word.

It is as if someone has placed an iron over his heart, causing it to pump red-hot blood through his veins, to surge anger throughout his entire body, to cause the core of his very being to coil and twist in agitation and _blood lust_. It takes only moments for the fury – the _ache _to reach out and throttle the man's neck thoroughly and painfully – to return. His fists clench.

"You," he hears Karin remark from somewhere behind him, though the ringing in his ears makes it sound distant. Ayane Hibiki looks from her, to him, to the cowering man behind him, before he clears his throat to catch their attention.

"This is my son, Ayane Kazuhiro," the older man explains impassively, causing Matsumoto to close her eyes in horror and groan. "And I do believe, Hitsugaya-san, that you have wronged him greatly tonight."

A dead silence covers the group. Karin perks up, looking at them curiously and hoping to finally learn what the fight had been about, but Matsumoto is too busy burying her head in her hands with lost hope to think of much else.

"Oh?" he manages through clenched teeth. Ayane finally shifts his expression and raises an eyebrow.

"Yes. We had a doctor address his wounds and, thankfully, the damages are minimal. But, you have caused him great pain tonight, and I feel we must clear the air before advancing our professional relationship any farther."

"And by 'clearing the air', I assume that you mean..."

"An apology," he clarifies. "From you, to my son."

"Now, hang on," Karin interrupts their stare-off, holding up her hands and stepping forward. He groans quietly, wishing she had ignored her characteristically bold mannerisms and stayed quiet. But it is too late – they all turn their attention towards her. "Now, I don't exactly know what happened between these two, but I think you're being very unreasonable here..."

"Ayane," the man supplies, cocking an eyebrow at her. Maybe wondering why she had not known his name when he had introduced himself – she must have have had difficulty reading the name off of his lips.

"Right, Ayane-san," she says, after keeping a close eye on his mouth. "First of all, how can you know that it was Toushiro in the wrong? You don't know him, so that's probably why you would assume this is his fault, especially since your son is the one who's bloodied up, but I know for a fact that Toushiro is not that kind of a person. He talks things out first."

Toushiro almost grins over at her, feeling elated at her immediate response to defend him and the integrity of his character, but cannot help but feel that her outspoken personality should have picked a better time to cause her to speak out. Ayane's upper lip curls in contempt towards her.

"I may not know Hitsugaya-san, miss, but I do know my own son. And seeing as how I _do _know what happened between these two, I believe that I am a tad bit more qualified to judge who is '_in the wrong,_' as you said."

This catches Toushiro's attention.

"Ayane-san, you say that your son has told you what happened?" he questions, the clench in his fists tightening as he ponders the implications of the answer to his questions. "Even the _reason?_"

"We have...discussed it briefly," the man replies, seemingly aloof. But Toushiro sees it.

He sees the man's eyes flicker over to Karin's face briefly, sees his upper lips curl even more in that moment, sees his eyes hold a hint of a jeer, and suddenly, the young adult _knows. _He _knows _that Ayane Hibiki has gotten the whole truth behind what occurred in the dressing room, knows about his son's actions, and actually _agrees _with them, maybe even applauds them secretly on the inside.

The young musician sees nothing but red. But before he can say anything, he hears Matsumoto shuffle behind him, and she finally speaks up, surprisingly much later than he would ever have expected her to.

"Ayane-san," she says, bowing humbly in front of him. "Although I do not know of the exact events that took place between these two, we – Hitsugaya-san and myself, his manager and representative – sincerely apologize for -"

"_No,_" he cuts across harshly, sticking out an arm in front of her abruptly to halt her in her words. "_We do not_." Ignoring her baffled expression and Karin's quizzical one, he turns towards a smirking Ayane Hibiki, automatically stepping in front of Karin in a protective stance. "Get out..."

"Hmm?" Ayane mumbles.

"Get out," Toushiro repeats, his voice a dangerous hiss. "Get out of my _sight._"

"Are you sure you want to do this to your career, Hitsugaya-san?" the bastard asks. "I mean, the rewards for such...chivalry" – his smirk widens as he eyes Karin once again – "can hardly be worth -"

"I said to get out of my sight!" he snarls.

The smirk drops immediately, the previously collected man now openly glaring.

"You do not want me as your enemy, Hitsugaya-san," he advises with malice dripping in every word. "I _demand _your give us a formal apology for the damage you have caused my son. You, no one else."

"_I _didn't hear anything on the news today about flying pigs," the musician replies coolly, folding his arms across his chest.

"You will regret this!" Ayane promises, his voice rising. "No theater is ever going to let you take one step into their building, I'll make sure of that. Your career as a musician ends as of today!"

"Do you see any tears in _my _eyes?"

The record company owner simply glares at him murderously before spinning on his heel and stomping over to the exit.

"Kazuhiro, we're going!" he commands his pathetically frightened and silent son. He immediately follows, scurrying over to his father and stumbling over his own feet, although a bit more slowly because his nose starts to bleed and he tilts his head back, clutching tissues to it.

And then, Karin does the most wonderful and perfect thing she could do in the situation. Her nurse training kicking in, she rushes forward, places a hand securely behind his neck, and makes him face downwards instead.

"You shouldn't lean your head back during a nosebleed," she advises him in response to his quizzical look. "Leaning it forward is better, or else you'll feel nauseous, and swallowing all that blood can clog your airway, or induce vomiting."

Kazuhiro nods dumbly in gratitude at her helpful action and staggers away. Before he bows his head, Toushiro has the satisfaction of seeing the feelings of guilt and shame etched onto his face. Good. The bastard can take them to Hell with him, for all he cares.

**.. ღ ..**

"But _you _came to _us, _and now you're saying that – yes, I can understand that, but...Yeah? Well, you and Ayane Hibiki wouldn't know talent if it bit you in the ass and gave you rabies! Ugh!"

Matsumoto slams down the phone in aggravation, a glare still in her eyes as she pulls her hand roughly through her ruffled hair.

"Another cancellation?" Toushiro inquires nonchalantly, looking up from his book.

"_Yes,_" she answers, furiously. "It was supposed to be a benefit, and they wanted you to play for a few hours. And now they've canceled, all because of that Ayane! The event is only a week away! Where are they planning on finding another musician on such short notice?"

"It will probably be very easy, what with all that money I'm sure Ayane bribed them with," he replies, grimacing.

"This is unbelievable," she says, groaning and biting the nail of her thumb in worry. "You were booked solid for the next _month, _and now, nothing! They've all canceled."

"The power of money," he says simply, shaking his head slightly in disappointment at the thought that so many people could be bought so easily.

"Unfortunately, if we don't get any jobs soon, _we _won't have any." She begins pacing slightly.

"Aren't you being a little too dramatic?" he asks, casually turning to the next page of his book. "I'm sure we can find someone...What about Kyoraku-san and Nanao-san? They're friends of ours."

The huge, hopeful grin that had blossomed on her face at the idea drops slightly as a new thought occurs to her.

"They've closed up their theater for the next few months because they'll be busy finishing up with all their wedding preparations."

He chokes on nothing at the news.

"What_?_! They're getting _married_?...Why would anybody want to marry _him?_" he asks, incredulously, thinking of Kyoraku's slacker tendencies and annoyingly laid-back attitude, and her completely opposite pragmatic views and personality. Matsumoto rolls her eyes.

"Why does _anybody _get married?" she remarks, impatiently. "It's love. _Love! _Nanao-san said we should be getting invitations to the wedding soon. They could have picked a better time, but after dating for three years, I'm sure she thought it best to grab at the chance of him finally ready to make a commitment to her. You know, before he changes his mind, or something." She purses her lips. "So our fall back option is temporarily not an option. We really do need to find someone willing to hire you."

"Matsumoto, I just gave a performance. Finding another one shouldn't be too big of an issue right now. So what if I need to take a break for a while?"

"It won't be just _a while,_" she snaps at him. "If Ayane gets his way, this last performance was just that – your last! Just _what _was so important that you had to piss off the one guy I told you we couldn't afford to piss off_?_!"

He shrugs, retuning to his book, not looking bothered in the least, and she grits her teeth, looking like she wants to lunge at him and _make _him see reason.

"Ugh! I need some sake!" She grabs her purse from its place next to him on his couch, and stomps to the front door of his apartment. "I'll be back."

"Don't bother," he calls after her, calmly turning another page. "I don't want you making my apartment smell like alcohol."

She only slams the door in response.

**.. ღ ..**

A loud knock early the next morning wakes him up. Grumbling furiously and rubbing at his drooping eyes, he stumbles sleepily through his apartment, wrenching the door open violently when he finally reaches it.

"Matsumoto, I _swear _-"

And then he freezes, because the amused face of Kurosaki Karin awaits him on the other side instead.

"Can I, uh, come in?" she asks. He nods, still in slight shock, and steps aside to let her in. As he closes the door behind her, she takes her time looking over the parts of the apartment that she can see from her position.

"Yup," she says pointedly. "Spick-and-span and not a thing out of place. Just what I thought an apartment of yours would look like."

"Glad I didn't disappoint you, then," he answers, jokingly, though after taking a place right in front of her. He beckons that she follow him, and then leads her over to sit on the couch.

"Did I wake you up?" she asks, looking apologetic.

"Yes," he answers honestly, but, not wanting to make her feel responsible, continues hurriedly, "but I should have been getting up soon, anyway. I just stayed up late to finish a book."

"A neat freak _and _a nerd?" she teases with a smirk on her face. "Wow, I'm two for two today."

He glares at her irritably, but it fades soon.

"How did you know where I lived?"

"Rukia-nee gave me the address in your files from her classes." He raises an eyebrow.

"Any particular reason?" She nods.

"Well, you see, my family has been helping Nanao-san and Kyoraku-san plan their wedding." When he raises an eyebrow at her, she rolls her eyes. "Yuzu's idea," she explains. "She loves this kind of stuff, and Rukia-nee was excited about it too, so, of course, Otou-san went along with it. I don't really mind, since they're very close friends, and they do us a lot of favors."

"Like bringing the two of us together." It slips out, and he blushes slightly when he realizes it sounds like he's calling the two of them a couple. But she only nods happily.

"Exactly," she agrees. "So I was running errands today, and Kyoraku-san said that since I would be heading this way anyway, I should come over and give you this personally."

In response to his inquisitive look, she rummages through the bag slung on her shoulder; it suits her - just solid black and simple.

"Ah, here it is. Here."

She hands him a small folded card with graceful, flowery designs dominating the edges. The words _You Are Invited _are written in elegant script largely across the middle.

"An invitation," she explains. "To their wedding." She hands him another one. "And this one is for Rangiku-san. I'm sure you'll be seeing her soon enough, so I'll give this to you to give to her."

He nods in agreement, placing the two cards on the coffee table to remember to hand hers to her when she arrives.

"You're allowed to bring a guest," she continues, "so if you do, make sure to tell us, so we can order all the food and other accommodations. The details are on the invitations – read it over when you have the time. If there are any problems for either you or Rangiku-san, just text me. I would ask you to text Nanao-san, but she's been so hectic recently that it might not be a good idea to pile more problems onto her shoulders."

He chuckles along with her, knowing how hysterical and frenzied their friend can be when faced with too many burdens, though most are usually caused by her husband-to-be.

"And...there is something else..." she begins, somewhat hesitantly.

"What is it?" he encourages.

And then he is cut off by the sound of his stomach growling. Though he knows she can't hear it, he is still embarrassed, and claps his hands over his stomach reflexively. She looks at him in surprise at the strange action, but can probably infer what happened by his flustered expression because she bursts out laughing.

"What a terrible friend I am," she says in between laughs. "First keeping you from your sleep, and now your breakfast."

"Do you, uh, want any?" he asks, making to get up from the couch because he has no reply to her statement.

"Hmm." She places a finger on her chin in a thinking pose. "Well, I had breakfast, but passing up a chance to taste the _amazing _Hitsugaya Toushiro's culinary skills? Never."

He rolls his eyes at her wide grin, but grabs her arm and pulls her into the kitchen with him anyway, so they can still talk. It isn't until they near the cooking area that he finally realizes his own bold actions.

_'I'm holding her arm!' _She is every bit as warm as he remembers it to be, when she had first held his hands all those months ago when they had first met. However, _she_ had only been trying to prove a point, while he is making unnecessary contact. _'I never do that,' _he thinks, surprised at his own actions.

Trying hard to be subtle, he peeks at her from the corner of his eyes. She only looks relaxed, looking around at his tidy kitchen with interest, not at all bothered by the hand holding onto her. And though this should have caused him relief, he feels his heart fall slightly. _'Does my presence not bother her at all?' _he wonders sadly.

_He _is so eerily aware of her at all times, always sure to speak only when his lips are visible, to pronounce each word as clearly as possible to include her into the conversation, to learn sign language for her benefit, to think of her as he composes each new song, to hope to make her proud as he plays in front of an audience, to protect her.

Do his efforts count for nothing? Will she aways consider him a friend, the pianist she had so admired and can now converse with freely? Is that all he is to her?

_'You're being ridiculous, Toushiro,' _he reprimands himself. _'Just listen to yourself.'_

This should be enough. It means she is comfortable in his presence, secure enough around him to allow casual touching without making a blush-worthy scene...Well, neither of them are the _type _for a blush-worthy scene, so her reaction makes perfect sense. He cheers himself slightly at these thoughts, convinced that such a simple action on his part and _lack _of action on her part means a positive step farther in their relationship. He is obviously no longer a stranger to her, or just a musician she had watched on television from time to time, but something more.

"So, what are you making for me?" Her question breaks him out of his reverie. He mentally shakes his head to clear it.

"I'm not making anything for _you,_" he replies, jokingly. "You've already had breakfast, so you can just have my scraps if you're that desperate for a taste."

She sticks her tongue out at him playfully, but leans against the counters to watch him work. He reluctantly slips his hand away to head to the refrigerator.

"I always have an omelet in the morning," he informs her as he places some vegetables on the counter and searches for a cutting board and a knife. "Less hassle." And she watches in awe as he begins chopping expertly at a furious speed, each piece of each veggie the same, small size.

"I wish I could do that," she says, jealousy in her tone.

"Practice," he says simply. "Plus, I have quick fingers, from all that piano playing. Anyway, you said you had something to tell me?"

She takes a moment to think before she remembers.

"Oh, right. The favor." She bites her lip, looking rather guilty.

"What favor?" he asks, now downright curious.

"Well, I know that you're going to be a guest at the wedding, but Nanao-san and Kyoraku-san were wondering if – you can say no if you want to...if you wouldn't mind playing the piano for a bit?"

He simply looks at her for a moment before chuckling, and then reaches for four eggs – double the amount he usually eats.

"That's all? And here I was thinking you needed me to whack someone for you." She huffs in irritation.

"I was just _worried_ that you might have a lot on your plate. Maybe recitals or -"

"No, I don't have any. I wouldn't mind one bit."

"Great! I'm sure if you decide to bring a date – I mean, _guest_ – she...or he...won't mind, since it will only be for a little while, I promise. They have another pianist, but he can only come for a little – wait, _any?_" She breaks off mid-sentence as his answer finally registers. He only nods, reaching for a frying pan and some oil. "Any, as in, _at all?_"

He laughs at her widened, surprised eyes, and nods slowly to get the message across.

"Yes, at all. They've been canceled. _All _of them," he says in a rush when he sees her open her mouth furiously.

"Is it...because of that man? From the recital a few days ago?" He grimaces at her accurate guess, and her face darkens as she sees it. "So it was because of what happened between you and...Kazuhiro, was it?"

"Maybe," he replies, shrugging, trying to keep his answers vague, so as not to make her want to pry. "Breakfast is ready."

She looks taken aback at his deliberate and abrupt change in topic, and appears even more shocked when he cuts the omelet in half, places each on two separate plates, and hands one to her, along with a fork. When he notices her dumbstruck expression, he laughs.

"You didn't _really _think I was going to make you eat my scraps, did you?"

She punches his arm playfully, but it seems strange with the bright beam on her face.

**.. ღ ..**

"Oh, Kami, this is heaven." She spears a bit of the egg dish on her fork and holds it in front of her eyes, staring at it in awe and love, going as far as to place a delighted hand on her cheek. "I mean, you just – _fantastic –_ this is – marry me!"

Trying to ignore the way his heart leaps wildly at that last statement, he eyes her with amusement.

"What, they don't feed you over at your house?" he teases once she looks up to aim her admiration at him.

"They do, but Ichi-nii has never liked egg dishes, and because Yuzu has such a _huge _big brother complex, she hardly makes any, so it's been a while since I've had such an _amazing _omelet." She goes back to admiring his cooking, and he shakes his head at her wonder in such simple pleasures.

She stuffs her face, shoving a large piece into her mouth, and moans happily as another blast of wonderful flavor hits her tongue. Unable to talk because of the food in her mouth, she simply places her middle finger and thumb against her lips, moving her hand towards him, signing, _'Delicious!'_

He grins before placing a hand flat against his chin and extending it outwards, simply signing back a _'Thank you' _before turning towards his own plate. Thank Kami for those sign language classes.

Normally, he would have thought himself childish for getting happy over such little things, but...he kind of _likes_ being able to talk to her this way, in a secret language that not just anyone could use to converse with her. It's something that the two of them share together, and he knows that not many can say that. He can offer her so many things by learning it; a chance to remain comfortable with him, to not feel the need to speak specially for him, to be herself.

It almost makes up for Matsumoto and Kuchiki teasing him so much about it.

**.. ღ ..**

"I should be going," she says finally, getting up off her seat and picking up her plate. "There are still errands I need to run."

He nods in understanding and, before she can make it to the kitchen, he grabs the plate from her hands. Picking up his own, he puts them both in the kitchen sink, deciding to wash them later, when she is gone. When he turns back, she is watching him with narrowed eyes, her arms folded across her chest. When she notices him staring back, she lifts both of her eyebrows. After a moment, he shrugs.

"It's not your problem," he insists. "I'll take care of it."

"I'm deaf, Toushiro," she says firmly and suddenly, a slight glare in her eyes. "I'm not made of glass."

He feels himself flushing.

"That's not why," he argues. "It's just...you're a guest. What kind of host would I be if I let you handle that?"

"So you're a _host _now?" she demands, her voice raising. He gazes back at her, confused by her outburst. "I thought we were friends. Friends let each other do things like that without making a fuss."

"What? I wasn't making a _fuss_ -"

"Don't treat me differently, Toushiro," she spits out. "I'm perfectly capable of putting a plate away."

He stares back at her, bewildered. Where is this coming from? Just a moment ago, the two of them had been joking with one another, eating his breakfast and having a good time. It had only been one simple action, just an act of courtesy and kindness – why is she making such a big deal about it?

"I'm not insinuating that you can't," he remarks, trying to keep the surprise from his voice. "I'm just saying it's not your job to clean up around here."

"But it's my job to clean up after _me,_" she counters. "You don't have to coddle me, Toushiro, or wrap me up in a thick blanket and keep me safe from the world. I'm a big girl, and I'm perfectly capable of watching my own back."

"Karin," he mutters, pleadingly, lost about what they are fighting over – it can hardly be over him putting a plate in the sink for her. "What brought all of this on?"

There is a beat of silence – an intensely quiet moment in which her expression falls and he desperately tries to understand her sudden hostility – and then, "You were fighting over me, weren't you?" she asks somberly.

The atmosphere in the room changes immediately, him freezing in position and watching her with wide eyes, and her tapping her foot impatiently as she watches him expectantly, wanting an answer. There is no need to clarify what she means – both know exactly who and what she is referring to, and he rubs the back of his neck, not sure of how to avoid the answer.

"We...yes," he admits finally, sheepishly. "How did you know?"

"I didn't, not until just now," she tells him through gritted teeth. "Not until you put away the plate for me, like you felt the need to take care of everything for me. I realized it was strange that you would fight someone so suddenly when you're known for being so collected all the time, and that it happened after you met me." She breathes deeply, gazing at him deeply as he fights the urge to looks away in shame. "He said something about me, didn't he? You were protecting me from him, weren't you?"

"Well, uh..." He sighs, defeated, and says in a flat tone, "Yes."

She nods lightly, an unreadable expression on her face, this obviously being the answer she had expected. And then, she pulls back her arm...and strikes him as hard as she can with her fist.

"What the hell_?_!" he cries out, clutching his arm in pain and glaring at her. She uncurls her fist with a self-satisfied smirk.

"_That _was for thinking I can't take care of myself," she tells him pointedly.

"Ow..." he says under his breath, still rubbing the sore spot.

Slowly, she reaches out her hands and places them on his shoulders, pulls him down, and places a very chaste and very brief kiss on his cheek. The pain in his arm suddenly all but forgotten, he places a palm over the spot on his cheek where he can still tingles and warmth spreading through it, and stares at her in wonder. She flushes under his gaze, not used to being so soft towards men.

"And _that _was for such a wonderful breakfast," she says quietly. When she sees his surprised face, she sticks out her tongue at him. "What? Did you think I was going to do something sappy, like actually _thank you _for standing up for me, or something? Didn't one punch suffice?"

She curls her fist, ready to strike again, but he quickly shakes his head, covering her small hand with his own large one to stop her.

"No, no," he says quickly, but with a small smile on his face. "One was enough."

She gazes up at him for a moment, unblinking, before punching him anyway with her other hand, though only lightly and with a small smile playing on her lips. The intense atmosphere from before immediately lifts in light of their light-hearted joking, and he sighs in relief, aware that he has been forgiven momentarily, and returns the smile. She pulls away, heading for the living room to collect her things. He watches as she slips her bag over her shoulder, and follows her closely as they head for his front door.

"I'll see you at the wedding?" she asks for clarification, turning to face him at the doorstep. He nods.

"Or earlier," he says, pausing to think. "You can come to me if you need any help with the preparations, and I'm sure Matsumoto would love to help, too."

She nods in gratitude.

"I'll keep that in mind. And make sure that if you decide to bring a guest, ask her, or him, soon, so that you can tell us and we can finish our preparations."

He answers in the affirmative, and she watches him closely for a second before spinning back around and heading for the apartment stairs, her shoulders slightly more hunched for some reason.

He sighs, propping his elbow against the doorway and leaning on it as he watches her leave. Really, there's only one person he can think of that he would want to bring as a guest – _date – _and yet, he's sure she would only say no. After all, she has no reactions to him, no changes when being near him, as he does.

He has been infatuated with Karin since the moment he met her – even before, really, since she had plagued his mind since he first saw her in the balcony, barefoot and beautiful. At first, it was just curiosity, a desire to understand the strange inner workings of her mind that understands him so well. But ever since the dressing room, when he felt jealousy claw at him at the sight of another man making a move on her, and when he experienced a surge of anger at the audacity of anyone degrading her, he feels a new curiosity.

She knows so much about him already, that he loves his family, his manager, his piano. She understands how he truly feels in awe of music, despite what he has been saying, and that he puts his heart into his compositions now. She even has a slight inkling, he is sure, that he does this all for her. How could she not, with the way he watches out for her, albeit against her wishes, and succeeds because of her words and confidence in him?

But he knows nothing about her, nothing personal. He knows she is younger than him by a couple of years and just graduated high school the previous year, but only indirectly through Kuchiki. He only discovered that her family owns a clinic and she is a nurse there by accident. He knows she punches her father when he acts idiotic, but he doesn't know her _true _feelings towards him, or the rest of her family, or...him.

He does not even know how she lost her hearing, he realizes with a jolt as he remembers Kuchiki's words in her kitchen. And then another memory resurfaces.

_'"You mean she hasn't told you? Hmm, maybe you two aren't as close as I originally thought."'_

He feels the annoyance at those words even now, as he had felt the first time they had been spoken. But he has no choice but to admit that the reason he does not know anything about her is his own fault – he has never bothered to inquire. Sure, he has been curious about her for a while, but he has never made a move to learn more about her, _slowly, _if need be. If he had ever hinted that he wanted to know more, maybe she would have let him in.

And so, this means it is up to him to take the first step. She took one first, the first time they met when she boldly sneered at him, which had somehow been exactly what he had needed. And now she needs a push. She needs to realize that he is just so curious about her, that he wants to know more, that she needn't shut him away from her private life. Obviously, it makes no difference to him if she is deaf; she is no different in his eyes than anyone else is, except maybe in a more positive way. This only proves how strong she is, to live life so freely after cruelly being ripped apart from her hearing.

_'See? There you go, Toushiro. You just learned something else about her.'_

And he knows what he has to do to learn more.

Karin has already left the building during his inner conversation. He rushes to the window in his apartment that faces the front of the building, and sees her crossing the parking lot. Pushing himself away furiously, he dashes out of his living quarters and throws open the door to the stairs, jumping three or four at a time in his haste to get to her.

At the front door, he catches a glimpse of her back as she swings one leg over a motorcycle and settles into the seat, reaching for the helmet hanging from the handlebars. She drives a motorcycle? Yet another thing he did not know about her. He raises his hand above his head and rushes after her.

"Wait!" he cries for obviously no reason, as she can't hear him, but at the same time, he grasps her shoulders from behind and spins her torso in her seat to face him. She peers up at him, shock on her face, but upon realizing that it is someone she knows, she relaxes slightly. Swinging her leg back over, she sets her helmet against her hip and turns to face him with a questioning look, and he grits his teeth. It's now or never.

"...I didn't know you drove a motorcycle," he hears himself say, and mentally smacks himself. This isn't what he wanted to tell her! She gives him a funny look, but nods.

"I've had it since I first got my license," she explains.

"And they allow deaf people to drive?" he asks, desperately trying to backpedal the conversation to the right direction but finding himself unable to do so. Words he does not mean to say keep slipping out.

"_Yes,_" she answers, a little defensively. "Did you know that eighty to ninety percent of driving requires _sight?_ And it's not like deaf people are any different from teenagers who blast music in their cars, so why should we be denied the right? It's all about being able to drive _safely, _and I do."

"...Fascinating." He cringes mentally. That's all he could think of to say?

"Is that all, Toushiro?" she asks, eyeing him curiously. Probably wondering why he had stopped her for such a stupid reason. Well, it isn't really stupid to him – he has learned yet another thing abouther, and is now less ignorant about her lifestyle. But there are more important matters to discuss.

"Um, no. Do you think that, maybe, you would want to, uh, go to the wedding with me?" he finally manages to stutter out.

She gazes at him in surprise, perhaps not expecting such a different topic than the one they had started with. But then a small, evil glint makes its way to her eyes and smirk.

"Well, we'll both already going to the wedding," she answers, and he listens in confusion. "I was planning to go with my family, since I can hardly show up on a motorcycle, and I'm sorry if you really wanted to ride one, but if you want to carpool, we don't mind picking you up. It's not exactly on the way, but we wouldn't mind leaving early. And if you have your heart set, I can take you for a ride some other time -"

His jaw slackens as he realizes what she is doing. She's going to make him work for it! She knows perfectly what what he had meant, and she is purposely goading him. Well, he is not going to let her get to him. This is long overdue, and he is not going to let all the determination he had built up go to waste. He has enough courage to do this, and do it right.

"No," he tells her firmly, taking her by surprise. "I meant _with _me, as my guest – as my _date._"

The eyebrow that had shot up at his suddenly serious expression slowly drops at his clarification. He watches in fascination as a corner of her mouth tilts, lifting ever so slightly as a slow but sure smile breaks out across her lips. And what he truly finds so striking is the dusting of red that sprinkles over her cheeks, flushing her face as she looks up at him through her lashes and bobs her head, quickly and happily.

"I thought you would never ask."

* * *

><p><strong>Jeez, Toushiro is so dense. She kept giving him signals that she wanted him to ask, and he only <em>just<em> realizes. I know that Karin, being Karin, would probably just have asked him herself, but she really just wanted him to grow a pair and spit it out ;D Anyway, now we get to read as they get to know one another better and their romance blooms! And I added that whole omelet eating scene because I really just wanted the sign language classes to come in handy and serve a purpose. Though I had to research how to say those simple words. I have a friend taking SL, and I've been driving him crazy :)**

**Oh, and speaking of research, I had to do a _lot _of it on driving for the hearing impaired for this one, since I realize that there are some countries that do not allow it. And after a lot of work, I found out that Japan does indeed allow deaf drivers, though they didn't for a long time until the Japanese Federation of the Deaf petitioned for it. So her driving is perfectly okay. Also, that thing about the nosebleeds is true, everyone. I learned it in Health Science this year, so if you ever get a nosebleed, don't lean your head back, lean it forward and pinch.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Note: Because a wedding is supposed to be such a romantic and happy occasion (^^), I couldn't resist putting in hints of other pairings, too (to add to the atmosphere). So, to let you know, all the pairings in this chapter are:** HitsuKarin, IchiRuki, ShunNan (these first three were kind of obvious), UraYoru, UnoKen, ShuuheiIsane, YuzuRin, and a whole bunch of friendship between everyone :D **I hope I didn't use too many pairings that you might not like. But, this is focused on HitsuKarin, and the other pairings are mostly just brief or mentions, so I wish that might make up for it. Thank you, and enjoy :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any of its characters.**

* * *

><p>He never would have expected it of her, but Karin has good taste. When she asks him to accompany her in picking the perfect location for the wedding ceremony, she chooses a large hall up for rent on the outskirts of the city, a far drive from any of their homes. Though he tries to talk her out of it and suggest other, more extravagant and closer areas, she insists that the location she has chosen is perfect for a private person such as Nanao, and large enough to host a party worthy of a social person such as Kyoraku.<p>

When he returns the next week to help her and her family set up, he finds the entire hall lavishly decorated with glorious flowers, twinkling lights, and other decorations, creating a beautiful decor for a dazzling wedding. The room where the reception will take place is also prepared, and the first thing she does when he arrives is grab his arm and drag him down the altar. A _gorgeous _piano awaits them besides the steps for the groom's party.

"Try it out," she encourages, grinning at the excited gleam in his eyes. Breathing deeply, he lets his fingers strike a few keys, playing a few simple and sweet notes. The sound echoes loudly in the empty room, creating the feel of a hundred majestic melodies being played at once.

"How was it?" Karin asks when he finally turns away from the keys, folding her hands behind her back and leaning forward in curiosity.

"Perfect," he replies. She sighs in relief.

"I was hoping the effort would pay off." He raises an eyebrow at her, smiling a politely confused smile.

"Don't you recognize this piano?" she asks slyly, putting a hand to her lips to mask an excited grin. He turns back towards it, running a hand over the smooth and polished wood, gazing carefully at the aligned keyboard, bending over to study the pedals. He turns to her quickly as the realization hits.

"This is Matsumoto's piano," he recalls. The one that started it all. She bobs her head, obviously happy he had remembered. "How did you -"

"I paid some movers to bring it over," she explains. "With Matsumoto's permission, of course. She was _thrilled. _The one here before was a dusty old organ. I thought that, since this was a special occasion, I might as well make it special for everyone. This was the best I could do for you."

He is speechless, but she takes that as a sign of his gratitude.

**.. ღ ..**

The wedding is spectacular.

Nanao looks angelic in her simple white dress and, although no one had managed to talk her out of her strict bun and glasses, the boyish grin on Kyoraku's face suggests that he could care less. Besides, no one had managed to convince him to shave his unkempt beard, either.

"Besides, Ichigo," Isshin had screamed out for the world to hear, rubbing his own hairy jaw, "these hunky beards are proof of our manliness! Ohoho! I see _your _face is still _pathetically_ smooth." Ichigo had kicked him in the shins, effectively cutting off the man's roaring laughter at his expense.

Karin, surprisingly, had refused the invitation to walk down the aisle as a bridesmaid. Despite the effort she had put into making the day go off without a hitch, she decides she would rather watch her work pay off from one of the guest benches, squished into a seat beside him.

"But _why?_" Matsumoto had whined a few hours before the event, already prettied up in her own dress and picking at her hair in one of the mirrors in the back room – she had been _thrilled _when Nanao had come to her last minute and asked her to join the wedding party. Yuzu, too, had voiced her disapproval, though Rukia had wisely stayed out of the matter, and he had watched in amusement as Karin had huffed against their arguments.

Though, he had to admit, she certainly looks stunning today. With her fitted and pressed white, half-sleeve blouse and knee-length satin, turquoise skirt, it would certainly be difficult to find many women in the world today who seemed as breathtaking as she does. Even with her makeup-less face and plain hairstyle, he has trouble keeping his eyes off of her from the moment he picks her up in Matsumoto's borrowed car, a fact his busty friend is quick to point out and tease him about.

Though it is nowhere _near_ as embarrassing as the catcalls and wolf whistles that had been directed his way by the wedding party when he had walked in with her hand in his.

"Finally got the guts to pop the question, huh?" his ever-so-helpful manager had shouted out to him, and even Kyoraku had taken a moment during his busy day to send him a thumbs-up sign. He had just been lucky that Karin had been busy fussing with her father's tie to notice any of this. And, thankfully, when she had finally turned her attention to the rest of them, the women had learned of her plans for the day and promptly forgotten the happy news.

"I _hate _frilly,itchy dresses, so there's _no way _I'm getting into _that,_" she had argued, pointing in horror at the dresses the two had been wearing at the time – tight, lilac numbers with bows tied at the straps and frills running down the chest. Her opinion had been that dresses are just slightly more uncomfortable because she is used to wearing skirts, having adorned them throughout school. She had folded her arms, looking away in anger as they had continued to persist. "I think it's enough that Yuzu forced me into heels. Besides, Nanao-san doesn't mind, and it's a bit late _now_, anyway."

The two had finally relented at her logic, grumbling that she was absolutely insane to give up such a wonderful chance at a memorable experience.

"I'll live," she had grimaced in return.

"Hang on a moment," he whispers now, two hours later, as Kyoraku's best friend, Ukitake, begins playing the wedding march, as he had insisted he be allowed to do. Karin looks over at him when he lightly pats her thigh. "You were wearing dresses during my recitals..." he recalls, remembering her unmatched beauty.

"Yeah," she admits, but then places a hand over his and winks up at him, "but you're special."

He swallows the thick lump suddenly forming in his throat, quickly whipping his head to face the front of the room and determinedly keeping his gaze fixed on the altar rather than her eyes on him. He ignores the heat creeping up to his ears, or the way she chuckles and tightens her hold on his hand.

Just _how _can she say such an intimate thing without feeling the slightest bit of embarrassment? Even now, as he watches from the corner of his eyes, she focuses once again on the wedding taking place, seeming completely unaffected by her bold words. Of course, he has known since they first met that she is his greatest fan and admires him, but to out rightly admit it to him so casually on such a special and romantic day?

He wisely chooses to let the matter rest for now, forcing down the hammering of his chest and sweating of his palms. He only prays there is no mortifying stain on her skirt. He needs no other reason for the females to send agonizing giggles his way.

**.. ღ ..**

A small dinner party follows the wedding reception. He takes a seat beside her at one of the tables close to the bride and groom, of course being the perfect gentlemen and pulling her seat out for her first. She scoffs and makes a face when he does so, pushing him aside and tucking her own chair under her herself. When he sends her a flabbergasted expression, she playfully sticks out her tongue and flips him the bird before turning to converse with her sister. Shaking his head with an amused smile playing on his lips, he settles in himself.

An irritating red head collapses beside him, and he feels himself grow aggravated as she flicks her eyes from his face to hers, beaming.

"Do you have something you want to say to me?" he asks her, forcing calmness.

"Not really," she replies carelessly, waving aside the question. "Just trying to imagine what your kids'll look like." She squeals at the idea of their children, and his patience with her snaps.

"Matsumoto," he barks. She huffs, crossing her arms and looking away from him in annoyance.

"Okay, okay," she relents, rolling her eyes. "I'm _sorry._" She lights up once again. "But who would have ever thought our cute little Shiro-chan would ever take an interest in a girl! And a fan, at that. Didn't you always say that you would never go out with a fan? That they were brainless idiots, only after you for the fame and money?"

"They are," he confirms, nodding seriously. However, his eyes soften as he peeks over at his date, who is still signing animatedly with her family. "But…she's different." Matsumoto beams.

"She's certainly special," she agrees right away. "You should have been there when she suddenly showed up at my house, marched right in, and randomly started looking over my piano." He raises his eyebrows at the picture, but actually has little trouble imagining it. "Well, she told me you like it, so I guess it was worth it," his manager finishes, leaning back and sighing happily. He nods lightly.

"I do. Thank you."

"You're welcome," she answers simply, understanding the wistful feel of the conversation in a rare serious moment. The two lapse off into silence, listening to the chatters of those around them. Well, until they begin to eat.

The dinner is as wonderful as the reception. Each dish is elegant yet simple, a taste he has always appreciated when it comes to food. Matsumoto, of course, grabs a couple of bottles of champagne from a passing waiter and downs them in thirty seconds flat, which he assumes comes from practice. She pushes alcohol on him, too, but he refuses, wanting to keep his inhibitions on his first date with Karin. Besides, she is not drinking, either, though because of her age, so he does not feel obliged to.

He watches his date shovel an impressive amount of food down her throat in only half an hour. Soon, there is a pile of dishes next to her, and she is asking a passing waiter for some dessert. He does not complain, and not just because he has always liked it when a woman has a hearty appetite, but because his _own _pile of dishes is larger than even hers.

Ichigo and Isshin view it as a competition, and the two are soon swallowing large chunks of food to outdo one another. Yuzu watches in awe while Rukia ignores them, reservedly cutting her meat with a knife and fork, and lightly tapping her dainty lips with a napkin between each bite. Matsumoto does not once touch the food, choosing instead to have some alone time with her champagne. He realizes with irritation that they are probably a sight to behold.

He almost sighs in relief when his turn to play the piano soon approaches. Once he finishes with his dinner, the guests cheer him on, insisting that he play a tune for the new married couple, and he relents. Karin excitedly leads him to the stage, which the piano had been rolled onto for his performance.

"Have fun," she whispers as she readies her self to jump off and return to the table. Before she can make her escape, however, he shoots out his hand suddenly and pulls her back.

"What?"

"It would be rude of me to simply abandon my date," he informs her, grinning roughly in response to her quizzical look. Cradling her hand in his, he slides onto the piano bench, tugging her along. Seeming a little confused, she seats herself beside him.

He pulls her closer until the sides of their thighs touch, and then offers her his elbow, like a gentleman. Catching on, she sticks her hand through it, looping it into her hold and intertwining both of her hands together to clasp his arm in her grasp.

"Do me a favor?" he asks her rather than respond to her confusion. She nods enthusiastically. "You see these two keys right here?" He gestures to two keys right next to one another at her end of the instrument, and she nods again, seeming slightly bemused. "Can you keep them going in a beat while I'm playing?" He demonstrates by alternatively pressing down on the two said keys, mouthing counts to show her his meaning. "One, two. One, two."

"Why?" she wonders, seeming a little skeptical.

"I haven't practiced this one as much," he explains smoothly, trying to block out the memories of him practicing for hours on end just to perfect this particular song he is about to play. "It would help if someone kept the beat so I can keep track of the speed." Really, he just wants her to be a part of creating something beautiful, however small a part it is.

"All right," she finally agrees, and immediately picks up where he had left off, using the hand that is not clutching him. Though unable to hear the music for herself, she uses the vibrations and his mouthing trick to keep track of the beat. Her eyebrows scrunch in concentration first, but she beams when he pats her back in reassurance, no longer seeming worried.

Nodding in approval, he finally turns to the piano, ready to play one of the compositions he had written himself – a light and fluffy piece that seems perfect for this day.

"For the happy couple," he calls out without turning to face the audience behind him, and he hears the guests erupt into cheers or spies them raise their glasses towards the beaming bride and groom as he begins to play in accordance to his partner's beats.

His date remains pressed to his side as he does so, but she keeps the grasp astutely loose to allow his arms more space for movement during the performance. He chooses a particularly faster song and, even consciously, he knows there is a very selfish reason for his doing so; out of the corner of his eyes, he sees Karin watching in wonder. This is, after all, the first time she has ever seen his playing so up close and personal. Feeling more that just a little smug, he lets his fingers fly with amazing speed, sometimes at a pace so fast her eyes have difficulty following.

It surprises him slightly. He has never been one for bragging of his skills or purposely drawing attention to himself. He _does _know when to take advantage of the opportunities presented to him, which is a part of the reason he is so famous at such a young age, but he has never used it for such a boastful purpose. The admiration in Karin's eyes, however, compels him to smirk proudly as he realizes his efforts are paying off.

As he switches the positions of his legs to press down on the foot pedals, his leg accidentally brushes against her bare one. An elated thrill races up his spine at the unexpected physical contact, and his leg tingles even after she pulls hers away to allow him proper access. He peeks out at her once again during a slower melody to ensure that she is still in awe of him, and finds that she is doing the same.

"Enjoying yourself?" he questions. She shrugs nonchalantly, but he notices her fingering some of the other keys as she keeps up her beat, obviously far more than just enjoying herself. He smirks as he quickly flicks his eyes behind his shoulder. In the quick second he allows himself, he takes in the audience smiling tenderly up at them. Feeling a little embarrassed by such affectionate attention, he ducks his head as he reaches the end of his song.

When he finally lifts his hands off of the keys, the audience bursts into applause for the couple.

"Bravo!" he hears Isshin boom, and many whoop in agreement.

"That was fun," Karin breathes out, and her face is flushed slightly in happiness.

"You were great," he compliments her, and she slaps his arm.

"All I did was play two keys over and over again," she replies, rolling her eyes, though the slight upward twitch of her lips indicates that she is pleased all the same.

"That's more than a lot of people in this room played," he points out, and she laughs at his logic.

"Well, come one," she says, pulling her arm out of his so she can slide out of the bench and stand – he misses the touch. "I think we're keeping the pianist from doing his job." They look behind them and find a short, young man standing awkwardly in the corner. His quick glances towards them signify that he is waiting for their departure.

The two gladly walk off the stage, letting him take over the piano in favor of being bombarded with family and friends who want to offer them praise. Well, _she _is, while he stands stiffly at her side, being ignored because his performance had been nothing out of the norm, considering his work.

Soon enough, though, many partners make their way to the dance floor, stepping along with the music of the hired pianist. Karin steps off to the side, and he follows, keeping an interested eye on the dancers. Each one differs from the next, from awkward and shy sways to inappropriate closeness. He wonders which one he and Karin would be, were they dancing right now.

Wondering what she thinks of the activity, he inclines his head towards her and finds her looking extremely bored, not even taking an interest. It is something he had expected, though that does not squash his desire to dance with her. Even if she might not want to, he feels confident in his ability to lead her. All she needs is an offer.

He holds out his hand in front of her suddenly, urging her to take it. She looks at it carefully before raising a questioning eyebrow up at him.

"Would you like to dance?" he asks her once his confidence is at his peak.

"Mm…nah," she decides, shrugging, leaving his hand simply hanging there in the air. He looks at her in shock.

"No?"

"Me? I'm not much of a dancer," she explains. "No need to force yourself." He shakes his head.

"I'm not forcing myself," he argues, shaking his head and extending his hand. "I'd like to dance."

"Yeah, but I wouldn't," she once again shoots him down. He finally lets his arm hang limply at his side, watching with an incredulous expression as she picks at her nails. The embarrassment is not so bad as no one has witnessed the rejection but, for some reason, he _really _wants to dance with her now, knowing it is something she would apparently not do for just anyone.

"All right," he finally relents when she looks up at him again, probably wondering why he is still standing there. "I only asked because I thought I was _special, _but…"

Her eyebrow twitches at that, and she sighs very loudly in aggravation. Just as he is about to theatrically plop down into a seat next to her, she stands and catches his elbow. He smirks secretly as she stomps over to the dance floor, dragging him along.

"_Fine_," she seethes. "We'll have a damn dance. But only _one _round."

But just one round is enough to convince him that he truly is someone special to her.

**.. ღ ..**

"_Ouch._"

"Sorry, sorry," she apologizes profusely, looking a little lost as she quickly lifts her heel off of his foot.

"It's all right," he assures her, hiding his pained expression. She steps _hard._

The two attempt to pick up the dance where they had left off, but his partner has a few troubles. She has no rhythm, as she cannot hear the music, and can only try to complement his movements. She looks only at her feet, trying to make sense of the steps. Her legs wobble slightly, not used to such quick movements in heeled shoes, and she clutches his hand tightly, trying not to fall. He finds it amusing that she has no problem depending on him so much for support, yet had looked so _offended _when he had attempted to lead her.

"You try to bloody control me and I swear to _Kami _I will sock you," she had threatened dangerously. He had backed off, allowing her to lead her own steps, admiring her determination. Well, that isn't working so well now.

"Oh, sorry. Sorry!" she apologizes again, wincing as he slides his foot out from under hers. "_Ugh. _I _told _you dancing is not my thing."

"It's fine," he lies, trying to keep the pained gasp out of his voice. "I barely felt that one."

She snorts in disbelief.

"No need to play the hero, Toushiro," she says, rolling her eyes. "I know high heels hurt like a bitch."

But he still tries to blow it off. She's trying, and he finds that a respectable notion. Besides, even if she keeps failing, which she absolutely _hates _to do, she is still keeping her word and dancing with him, which only solidifies the fact that he is someone unique in her life, and tells him exactly _how much_. Who is he to complain about that?

"Oh, screw it," she suddenly says.

Slipping her hand out of his and dropping her grasp on his shoulder, she steps away. He raises an eyebrow, wondering if she has finally reached her limit, but she ignores him, bending over. He watches in fascination as she kicks off her heels, throwing them carelessly aside under a nearby table. She doesn't stop there. Next, he leaps back in embarrassment as she starts bunching up her skirt. When she is officially showing off too much of her legs to keep him sane, she ties a knot in the fabric, letting the skirt hang _far_ _above _her knees this time, freeing her for better movement.

"You're a little too stiff, too, Toushiro!" she playfully reprimands him. With a mischievous glint in her eyes, she lunges at him, grabbing his tie. As he splutters in shock, she tugs at it until it is considerably looser, and then completely pulls it off his neck.

He looks around furiously, wondering how many people had seen her bold actions. He finds almost every pair of eyes on _and_ off the dance floor fixed on them. Instead of showing disgust or shame, almost everyone lets out a huge cheer.

"Nice idea, Karin-chan!" Kyoraku booms from across the room. He yanks off his own tie, finally freeing himself from the garment his bride had forced on him in an effort to make him look more dignified. Nanao has no complaints now; she only giggles happily and then pulls him away to dance some more as someone puts on faster, up-beat music to match the mood, giving the pianist a break. Ichigo does the same after pleading with a reluctant Rukia, and Yuzu has to restrain her father from practically ripping off his whole shirt as Matsumoto hoots at him.

It is, in no way, anything even _remotely _close to romantic, but it's so much fun!

The only ones keeping out of the frenzy are Ukitake, Unohana, and Byakuya; the former two watch with sincere smiles on their faces while the latter watches with unhidden revulsion, probably because of their "improper behavior." That soon changes, however, when Yoruichi, who had been dancing nearby with Urahara, lightly kisses her partner's cheek before walking to their table. The scientist watches in amusement as she saunters away, knowing of her teasing ways and loving them.

"You need to loosen up, little Byakuya!" she cries and, despite his many protests and attempts to grab at the fabric, she yanks off his tie, though not before nearly choking him first. She shoves it down the front of her dress so he can't get at it, and then forcibly pulls him up and drags him over to dance.

"Do you see what you started?" Toushiro asks a snickering Karin as they watch Byakuya awkwardly try _not _to eye Yoruichi's chest while formulating a plan to get his tie back and look proper once again.

She simply shrugs, still chuckling. He holds out his hand, wanting to finish their dance, and she obliges. His tie, however, is still in her grasp, and she carefully wraps the electric blue satin around her wrist, tying it securely before reaching for his patiently waiting palm.

**.. ღ ..**

He does not manage to coax her into another dance with him. Despite his tries, she refuses rather firmly, her arms folded across her chest.

"I said _one _round," she reminds him, and he sighs, giving up. Just when they are about to step away from the other dancing couples, they find their path blocked.

"May I have this dance, Karin-chan?" Ukitake asks her kindly, holding out his hand. She grits her teeth for a second, looking as if she really wants to refuse, but then simply places her palm in his, defeated. He smirks; she had met Ukitake while helping Kyoraku plan for his wedding, the two being best friends after all, and he had listened to her rave about how amazing and kind the man is.

"I can't believe he's best friends with Kyoraku," she had said in amazement, voicing the thoughts of many who knew them. "They're _complete_ opposites."

So there is no way she can refuse him a dance, especially after he had just witnessed her swaying with Toushiro – it would only be rude to him.

"Wait," she says, lighting up. "I can't just leave Toushiro –"

"No worries, Karin-chan!" Isshin bursts in, looking pleased with himself. "Daddy will take care of your boyfriend for you!" Before he can protest, the young pianist finds his hand in the tight grasp of his date's father, and soon he is being led back to the dance floor, a look of horror on his face as the man places an arm around his waist and attempts to dance with him. Karin has trouble masking her snickers, and Ukitake politely coughs into his hand to do the same.

"Shall we?" he suggests, and she nods, allowing him to lead her away.

"Oh, but," a sudden thought occurs to her as they start to sway. She bites her lip guiltily, "what about Unohana-san?" They look over to see the kind woman smiling gently as her eyes roam the room, still sitting at the table, now alone.

"It's quite all right," Ukitake assures her with a wink. "I didn't want to steal Zaraki-san's thunder, after all."

Even as he says this, they watch the large, _very _overbearing man approach her, so tall and built that his shadow covers her frame. He pauses before her, avoiding her polite but curious gaze and instead jingling one of the bells of his hair by hitting it with his finger – his way of showing nervousness.

"Yes?" she inquires softly, a strangely expectant look in her eyes. He finally makes eye contact, his face set confidently.

"Dance with me, woman," he orders gruffly. In his eyes, demanding rather than roughly grabbing her and dragging her away is a way of exhibiting manners and romance. Perhaps she understands this, because she keeps a straight face as she nods politely and stands. But, when he isn't looking, she turns to wink at Isane, who had been watching the exchange with a grin and pauses long enough in her dance with Hisagi to send her a thumbs-up sign before shyly returning to her partner. He grins up at her softly.

"Wow. Um, that was unexpected," Karin comments, watching _Zaraki _act _shy _at the thought of placing an arm around Unohana's waist. She can see Ikkaku and Yumichika standing close by, watching the exchange with disbelief and awe, though both seem happy for their giant hero. Yachiru, however, is unaware and pigging out at a table across the room, a humongous piece of cake on her plate and smeared on her face. A boy she had earlier learned to be named Tsubokura Rin is seated next to her, eating a little more reservedly, but with icing stuck to his ridiculous ponytail. Karin watches her own sister approach them.

"Do you like it?" she asks with a smile. "I made it myself."

Yachiru simply ignores the interruption, too engrossed in her dessert, but Rin's eyes gawk at her for just a second before he nods timidly.

"You _made _this?" he asks, impressed. Yuzu nods.

"Uh-huh. I work at a bakery, and we design cakes sometimes."

"It's very good. You have good taste…in cakes." Yuzu giggles at the strange compliment, taking a seat next to him.

"Thank you," she replies kindheartedly, beaming over at him. "Seeing you enjoy it so much makes me happy." Rin bashfully grabs another fork and offers it to her, blushing horridly.

"W-Would you…like to share this slice with me?" he asks in a small voice. Yuzu takes the fork and scoots closer, causing him to squeak a little. He covers it up by stuffing a large chunk into his mouth, and she follows suit, humming happily as she tastes it. He cannot help but smile over at her as she does so.

"Seems love is in the air tonight, don't you think?" Ukitake asks her with a chuckle when she finally tears her eyes away from the sight. Her face softens.

"It seems so," she agrees, and her eyes unconsciously search the crowd for Toushiro.

**.. ღ ..**

"Having fun, Toushiro-kun?" Isshin asks, looking hopeful.

"Not particularly," he replies crossly, trying his best to push the man away a little farther. "And it's Hitsugaya-san."

"I _know _your name already,"the man says, looking at him innocently. He grits his teeth and breathes deeply through his nose, trying to calm his temper.

'_This is Karin's father,' _he reminds himself constantly. _'I need to stay on his good side. Do _not_ punch him.'_

But the man himself makes it extremely difficult as he keeps scooting closer, laughing joyfully as he attempts to twirl them around the room. He even once tries to dip Hitsugaya, but the youngster refuses straight out, glaring. He can see Ichigo snickering over at them, and even Rukia looks on the verge of laughter, though she tries to hide it by pursing her lips and keeps slapping her boyfriend's arm to order him to stop.

But what makes things worse is that he loses sight of Karin. As more couples join in – was that _Zaraki _he saw with Unohana? – the crowd becomes too thick for him to keep her close. It makes him uneasy to know that, should anything happen to her, he might be the last to know. The fact that she is with the very capable and responsible Ukitake is hardly appeasing.

"So, Toushiro-kun," Isshin interrupts him as he cranes his neck. Damn Zaraki and his spiky hair. "Karin-chan tells me the two of you are here on a _date_?"

He turns to snap at the older man to mind his own business when he catches sight of his expression. Complete seriousness lines his features, his eyebrows scrunched in concentration, his lips straight in a thin line.

"Uh, yes, sir," he replies, a little mystified by the sudden change in personality. It reminds him of his conversation with Rukia, when she had defended Karin so admirably.

"I see." Isshin's eyes narrow. "And what qualifications do you posses that make you a suitable companion for my daughter?"

"What?" There is no laughter or idiotic remark as he is taken aback, and that terrifies him slightly.

"_Qualifications,_" Isshin repeats. He brings the man closer as he had been doing through the entire dance, but this time, it gives off a threatening vibe, so Toushiro does not push him away. "What makes you think you're good enough for _my_ Karin-chan?"

"She agreed," he replies, a little uncomfortable, "so I'm assuming that must mean something." Isshin shakes his head.

"Karin-chan is still young, vulnerable – oh, you can laugh," he says when the youngster almost snorts, "but it's true. Now, I've had a _wonderful _time talking with your manager" – he growls, wondering exactly which embarrassing stories she had dug up – "and she assures me you are a good person. But, b_oth_ my daughters still need protection – even Ichigo did before he met Rukia – and I can only give them away to someone who can take care of them even better than myself."

"You make it sound like we're getting married," he says awkwardly.

"Aren't you?" the man questions, looking very serious. His jaw slackens, heat creeping up his neck. "Or rather, _won't you?_"

The flush intensifies, but he does not answer, does not deny. Isshin's face softens.

"If you are really who my daughter wants," he speaks in a voice so gentle it is impossible to believe it comes from such a boisterous man, "then I won't deny her the happiness. But I won't stand for anyone _taking away _that happiness. Understand, boy?"

"Yes, sir," he answers, nodding grimly. "I promise to make her happy."

"Oh, but not _too _happy, right?" The flush returns instantly, and Isshin chuckles. "Okay. I can see I won't have to worry about that for a _long_ time. But, I want you to remember, son, that Karin-chan is still very innocent – she might pretend to be otherwise, but she's never been in love. Which means she's never had her heart broken. She _has _been through lots of pain for so young an age -" His face saddens and he clenches his fist before continuing, "but she's tough. She's gotten through it and managed. But the heart is a different matter entirely."

"Sir, stop," Toushiro interrupts him, holding up a hand, and Isshin stares at him in surprise. "I'm not one for words, so I can't make any amazing speeches to win you over. But I _am _one for keeping my word and believing in consequences for my actions. So, if I _ever _start to stray from Karin, or if you _ever _think that I might one day break her heart, I give you permission right now, as her father and protector, to break each and every one of my fingers, painfully and slowly, and make me pay."

A pregnant pause passes between the two of them, intense and frightening. The music and noise in the background do not even register as something else passes between them – trust, faith, admiration. He understands how much his daughters means to Isshin, while Isshin understands how much the piano means to him.

"And you said you weren't one for words," Isshin mumbles finally, a small smile playing on his lips as he looks down and shakes his head. Suddenly, his head snaps up, a foolish grin plastered on his face. He lifts his hands and start beating down on his shoulders. "Break you fingers, huh? Well, I'll look forward to that, son! And please, my boy, you're so _tense. _Loosen up a bit, would ya?"

Toushiro feels his irritation rise as the man laughs loudly, gratingly.

"And what's with this _'sir'_ nonsense? I won't stand for it! Call me Otou-san."

He bares his lip back over his teeth in a growl, ready to lash out. But the rage disappears when he catches the smile on Isshin's face – meaningful, whole-hearted, and_ sincere. _He means it.

"...Yes, Otou-san," he obliges, feeling a little sheepish. Isshin beams.

"Masaki, did you hear that_?_!" he screams out suddenly, startling several of the nearby wedding guests. "I've had another son! Oh, what a beautiful day. Now, if only our son was brave enough to _shake a leg_ and make me a grandbab -"

"Shut up, old man," he hisses, mortified at his declarations and the attention he is attracting.

"Oh, Masaki, my son is so mean to me! Why would he be so cru - oh, gotta go!" he suddenly cries, cutting himself off abruptly. "Another boy I need to '_dance' _with!"

He bounces away gleefully, heading straight for his daughter Yuzu, who is tenderly wiping icing off of a blushing Tsubokura Rin's ponytail with a napkin.

**.. ღ ..**

The wedding guests crowd around the entrance of the wedding hall as Kyoraku and Nanao rush out, their hands held tightly together. Some throw the customary rice, but he and Karin choose to stand aside and watch the festivities instead. As Ukitake embraces the happy couple, she nudges his elbow.

"I hope my father wasn't too much of an idiot," she says, looking a little worried as she gazes up at him. He thinks back to the uncomfortable confrontation, when the man had been anything _but _idiotic for the most part, and shakes his head.

"It was all right," he assures her, going as far as to lightly pat her cheek. "He simply wanted to talk." The pained expression on her face indicates that she knows full well the kind of _talk _her father is likely to have had with him.

"I saw him _talking _to Tsubokura-san," she informs him, crossing her arms across her chest rigidly. She purses her lips at the memory of the poor boy almost fainting in fright at the threats of Isshin. "Was it anything like that?" Her guilty stare pierces him, but he shrugs.

"Not quite," he replies. When she seems unconvinced, he adds, "_I_ didn't let him intimidate me." She smirks.

"Good to know you really are the kind of man I thought you were," she replies, chuckling a little, and he assumes that is a good thing. They both focus their gazes on a blubbering and obviously drunk Matsumoto throwing her arms around poor Nanao, refusing to let go and give away her _"innocence to someone as despicable as Kyoraku here."_ A large group of guests grab onto her and attempt to pry her off – it takes the effort of three men, and even then it is only possible because she feels tipsy from the alcohol in her system.

"Looks like we're missing out on a party," Karin comments and, grinning, she rushes to the crowd to offer her own congratulations. He follows slowly, keeping his hands tucked in the pockets of his dress pants and still staying away from the crowd. He has always been more of an observer.

With the last minute hugs and regards, the new wife and husband make their way to the awaiting car, ready to drive away to their hotel room for the night – the plane leaving for their honeymoon departs very early, meaning they need their sleep for the night. Matsumoto snaps out of her drunken state long enough to raise her champagne bottle high in the air and screech, "Kiss!"

It actually catches on quickly, and pretty soon, the couple find themselves surrounded by a crowd chanting, "Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!" Even Karin, at his side once again, chimes in, an excited gleam in her eye. Kyoraku happily descends his lips upon his blushing bride, and whoops and jeers erupt into the night air.

"Woo-hoo!" Karin hoots and, lost in the moment, she rips the tie wrapped around her wrist and throws it into the air, launching it heartily into the wind. It whips it away into the darkness, where it can no longer be seen. She pumps her fist into the air in celebration, and only when she turns to beam at him does she realize what she has done.

Finally snapping out from her excitement, she resorts back to her senses a little too late. Her gaze travels from his amused face to the sky clouded in shadow, and then back to him. She claps a hand to her mouth before an endearing sheepish expression suddenly blossoms across her features, and she looks at him in apology.

"Oops?"

**.. ღ ..**

"I'm sorry, Toushiro."

"I keep telling you, it's perfectly fine."

She is still apologizing as they make their way outside, to the back of the building, each carrying a trash bag. He has discarded the suit's jacket, wearing only the slightly unbuttoned shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, which is more practical for work. Karin, funnily enough, is still barefoot, though she seems perfectly unaffected by that fact, having helped clean the area before the wedding. Though the party is over, there is still clean up to do, as they had only rented the place until this night. They toss the bags into a large bin that will be emptied by the owners the next day.

"Matsumoto forced that tie on me, anyway," he continues, turning to her. They stop right in front of a wall, and she faces him, too. "To match your skirt, apparently. It doesn't matter to me that it's gone."

She sighs downheartedly. "Fine," she mumbles. "If you're sure you're not upset. Because I'd be perfectly fine with having another one made for you as a replacement -"

"I'm _not _upset," he assures her. "It was just a tie."

She finally grins. "All right." A chuckle passes through her lips, "Kami, I haven't felt so air headed since I forgot to get Yuzu a birthday present back in high school. She was really upset, but I felt even worse. I mean, we're twins!"

"Twins?" he asks, taken aback as she chuckles at her own forgetfulness. She seems surprised, too, at his response.

"Yeah," she replies, scrunching her eyebrows. "We're fraternal twins. Didn't you know that?" He shakes his head. "Huh, I could have sworn I told you that." She scratches her head in thought, trying to remember if she had ever mentioned this bond with her sister.

"You haven't," he confirms. In a low voice, he adds, "There's a lot I don't know about you."

She rubs her chin, an action he humorously associates with her father – well, she _is _his daughter, so similar mannerisms are to be expected. For example, they both have frightening glares.

"Well, if you want to know," she says, shrugging casually, "all you have to do is ask. Though I don't see why you would; I'm not really that interesting."

He shakes his head in disagreement before contemplating his next question.

"All right, then," he says, jumping at the opportunity. "If you're really serious about that offer, then I'd really like to know ab -"

"Uh, uh, uh," she cuts him off, wagging a finger at him. A mischievous smile breaks out across her lips. "Sorry, Toushiro. One fact per date."

"Then, have dinner with me tomorrow," he says immediately and seriously, not letting a moment go to waste. She does a double take, a bemused grin replacing her sly one.

"All right," she agrees slowly. "You're on. Dinner, tomorrow. I'll look forward to it."

"And then I get one fact about you," he checks for confirmation. She laughs.

"If it's really awesome," she jokes in a low voice, wiggling an eyebrow suggestively, "I might even give you two."

"Deal."

She playfully holds out her hand, and he takes it. The two shake on the agreement, smirking at one another. The abrupt date invitation had been unexpected for _both _of them, but he does not regret it. Already he is planning the perfect night in his mind, something she will love. After all, this is to bring them closer together, which might as well mean they are laying their whole relationship on the line.

He gazes at her determinedly, drinking in the sight of her eyes sparkling with mischief. It is a look he has a feeling he must grow accustomed to. His eyes soon make their way to her lips, which are curved upwards just slightly in humor at the situation. A startling pang hits him just as a foreign thought does.

Should he kiss her? He gulps at the thought. Some people kiss one another on the first date, so it will not seem so strange, right? But can this really be counted as a date? Her entire family is here, after all, along with all of their closest friends, and they have all been watching over them throughout the night. But...he kind of _wants _to. He wonders if that makes him a pervert. Imagining such a scenario while gently holding onto her hand and gazing at her lips surely does.

But she seems rather indifferent by his hand still in hers. Now he is only left to wonder whether this is a good thing, meaning she also likes the action, or a bad thing, meaning she feels nothing special towards him, despite having been his date for the evening.

But she had called him special only today, and put aside her personal feelings of unease and danced with him. Not to mention they have already decided to try a second date with only the two of them this time. That surely means something.

Or maybe he is looking too into it. Perhaps he is fooling himself into thinking she wants a kiss because it is what he wants, and she will only look upon him with disgust or anger if he follows through with his desires. The thought causes his stomach to clench tightly.

Besides, how _does _one go about kissing Kurosaki Karin? He has no idea of the kind of man she desires. In accordance to her reply when he had finally asked her to be his companion to the wedding, he assumes she does not like indecisive or careful men. But he does not think he can kiss her with roughness or passion now, nor does he really want to, as this will be their first and he wants it to be special and sweet. What if she finds his attempt only pathetic? What if...what if she _laughs _at him and his lack of experience?

_'Karin is not that kind of girl,' _he tells himself harshly. _'You're only trying to_ _talk yourself out of it, like a coward.'_

It had taken too long for him to finally take that final step and ask her out, but that had worked out. Deciphering her actions is only making him more nervous, and he refuses to be, once again, the cautious man he had been. The only way to let her know how special she is to him now is to take her lips rather than worry, and then allow her to react as she pleases and deal with the aftermath.

_'Just do it, Toushiro,' _he urges himself. _'You've been too much of a coward with her already.' _He takes a deep, calming breath in his mind. _'Here I go.'_

With all of this inner turmoil still fresh in his mind, he grabs her hand tighter and prepares to pull her towards him. And, _just_ as he feels that he has _finally_ worked up enough courage and determination to follow through with his orders, she rips her hand away from his, choosing instead to gape and point at something high up in the branches of one of the trees.

"...Hey, it's your tie!"

* * *

><p><strong>Phew, another chapter done. And, I was suddenly hit with inspiration for the next while writing this and have it planned out, so hopefully I can update the next one fast.<strong>

**Poor Toushiro, though. It seems I'm determined not to make things go his way :P At least he's got a date with a pretty girl ;) And that wedding was such a party! I would love to go to one like it :) Anyway, as always, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, everyone.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any of its characters.**

* * *

><p>She decides she wants to keep the tie as a souvenir of their first date.<p>

He raises an eyebrow at her when she tells him, somehow managing to convey his incredulity while keeping his eyes on the roads of her street.

"Oh, come on," she says in return. "It was a fun night, _you _don't want it, and it would be such a waste."

He simply shrugs, turning the car smoothly into her driveway. As they brake, he turns to her.

"Be my guest," he offers carelessly. She beams up at him.

It is the same grin that had graced her face when she had first spotted it, swaying in the breeze and caught in a branch of one of the trees at the back of the wedding hall. Despite his many, _many _protests, she had rushed to climb up, her athletic arms and legs working together rapidly to help her reach the tie at an amazing speed.

She had perhaps forgotten that she had been wearing a skirt, but he hadn't. Flushing horridly, he had looked down the entire time, too proper to ever take advantage of a woman in such a way, despite her indifference, but too concerned to do so without keeping his ears sharp and ready to catch any sound that might indicate an emergency. There hadn't been, but he had sighed in relief only when he had heard her triumphantly call out, "I got it!"

He had looked up, thankful that the shadows from the leaves had covered her from the waist down. But then she had done a very stupid thing – she had jumped.

"Heads up!" she had yelled out, smirking with the tie clutched in her hand and whipping around in the fierce wind from the action.

And though he had panicked very slightly and readied himself to catch her, she had swerved out of his way, landing in perfect formation right beside him, her trophy safe in her grasp. He had only stared at her blankly, not entirely shocked at her wild display after the stunts she had pulled at the wedding.

"You went through all the trouble of getting it," he says to her now, turning in his seat to face her, "so you should keep it."

He takes it from her hands, loosens the knot slightly, and throws it over her head. It settles in an artistically sloppy fashion over her white blouse, and he silently praises Matsumoto's fashion sense – the outfit looks like a perfect match for the neck wear, as if she had worn it all along.

"Hey, thanks," she replies, and then jokingly adds, "You can't go asking for it back, because I won't give it to you. It's mine now." He rolls his eyes.

"Don't worry. I wouldn't have given it to you if I wanted it," he assures her.

"You're so generous," she says sarcastically, fingering the soft fabric.

A sudden knock on her window pulls their attention to the glass. Ichigo's face pops up in the window, and they realize her family has also made it back. He scowls darkly in Toushiro's direction.

"Don't even think about it," his muffled voice drifts through the barrier, and he makes a gesture towards his sister. With that threat, he stalks into the house with the rest of the Kurosaki family, who seem to be watching them not-so-stealthily with hopeful expressions.

Karin sighs deeply in aggravation.

"Interesting family you have here," he says, throwing a glare towards Ichigo, who seems to still be watching him through the corner of his eyes as he makes his way inside.

"Don't let them bother you," she replies, patting his arm sympathetically. "_Especially _Ichi-nii. The idiot's just been a little too over-protective since I lost my hearing." The question is on the tip of his tongue, but he doesn't ask _how?_ It would only ruin this perfect night. "But I should be getting in, anyway."

He nods. "Good night."

She grins. "Good night, Toushiro."

She gets out of the car and shuts the door, racing up to her porch steps. Before stepping inside, she turns back to wave, and from the dim light, he can see the huge grin on her face. The door shuts behind her and he pulls out.

And so, their date ends without a kiss, but he still can't keep the pleased smirk off of his face as he drives away.

**.. ღ ..**

A hung over Matsumoto bangs her fist against his door the next day. When he finally opens it, she's bent over in a crouch, her eyes out of focus and drooping with bags.

"Toushiro?" she groans as he looks down at her in amusement. He had kind of expected this after the way she had been downing so many drinks the previous night.

She blindly throws out an arm and starts groping the air, searching for him. When she collides with his chest, she pats her palm against him, going up until she gets a rather firm grip on his face. He scowls and pushes it off.

"Matsumoto," he grumbles. "What are you doing here?"

Ignoring him, she clumsily staggers her way inside and collapses on his living room couch, burying her face in his cushions and clutching her head, moaning. Her fingers dig through her hair, ruffling up the strands roughly until her hair is completely disheveled.

"Headache..." she whimpers.

With an irritated grumble, he closes the door softly and heads for the kitchen.

"Had breakfast yet?" he calls out. She moans out loudly in protest.

"Yes...And shut up!"

Humming a little tune, he shuffles through his cabinets, finally pulling out some pain medication for headaches. Filling a glass full of cool water, he strides over to her, handing her both the cup and two pills. She sits up a little dizzily, still clutching her forehead with one hand as she accepts the pills, downs them, then grabs the water and gulps it down greedily.

"Now," he says once she's finished, taking back the now empty glass and setting it aside, "would you like to tell me why you're here?"

"Job," she chokes out, lying back again, but this time with her face up and her eyes closed. "Got a call this morning." He raises a skeptical eyebrow.

"Really? I was under the impression that no one wanted to hire me after my little incident with the Ayane family."

"Last minute," she manages. "Desperate."

He nods in understanding. Of course, there are always those that are too frenzied to really care whether someone is hated, as long as they get the job done. Now that he thinks about it, that might be the majority of his employers from now on.

"What kind of job is it? At a party?" he asks. She shrugs weakly. "Okay, then who is it for?" Again, she shrugs. He grows impatient with her. "Matsumoto, do you know _anything _about this job?" She flushes a little in embarrassment.

"Actually, when they called me this morning, my head hurt too much to pay attention," she admits sheepishly. "They gave me a crap load of information that just flew over my head."

He growls under his breath in aggravation. Trust Matsumoto to be irresponsible when it really counts.

"But I remember it's at a restaurant," she recalls. "You just play for the guests tonight."

That does not sound too bad. He has so much more music he has written, and it will be so easy to pick just a few simple pieces one can enjoy during their meal. No doubt he will need to borrow Matsumoto's car again, though he is sure she will not mind if it's for a job, and just for tonight -

His blood runs cold for a moment.

"Tonight," he whispers, closing his eyes in dismay. His date...

Louder, he informs her, "I can't go tonight."

She finally cracks open an incredulous eye, her face twisted into disbelief. "Are you _kidding? _Your only job in _weeks _and probably for a long time, and you're saying you _can't make it_?"

"I have previous plans," he tries to defend himself.

"_What_, Hitsugaya, could be _so _important that you miss out on a job?" she demands angrily.

He pauses, not really wanting to tell her about his agreed date with Karin. Knowing his manager, she will make too much of a fuss about it, and he would rather try to get closer to Karin on his own, without her tailing them with embarrassing childhood stories.

"Matsumoto, I can't go. I told you that I've already -"

"Cancel!" she demands. "You're going to that job," the orange top insists, taking advantage of his silence. "This is too important. I don't care if you have a dinner with the Queen!" Actually, she is not too far off with that snarky remark. At least, not in his opinion.

Painfully rising up, she waddles over to the front door. "I'm leaving now, before you can think of anything else crazy to say," she calls over to him. "I can't handle that right now. I'll go to the restaurant first, and I'll call you tonight with all the details so you can come over." With that, she closes the door behind her, leaving him by himself with his pained thoughts.

**.. ღ ..**

The first thing he decides is that Karin _needs _to know about this new offer. She is always the one most excited for him and his career (okay, she's probably on par with the overexcited Matsumoto), and he is sure she will be happy for him.

His manager's car is still parked in his lot from the previous night, and as he drives it out to the Kurosaki neighborhood, he ponders that last thought. It is true that Karin is his most devoted and loyal fan, and that she always wants nothing more than for him to succeed with his piano. That being established, she will understand, right? He cannot help it that something has come up, but she's always been the type to not care about such trivial things, and rather to be happy for him.

And so, it is with great excitement that he stands at the door of the Kurosaki home. Pulling out his phone, he quickly texts his friend, telling her to come out, and then pockets the device once again, locking his fingers behind his back as he waits.

It swings open to reveal her face twisted in surprise. He actually finds it quite comical, as she is also dressed in grungy sweats. She had probably just been lounging around the house all morning. Not noticing her predicament, however – something he admires – she smiles up at him.

"What are you doing here?" she asks happily, crossing her arms.

"I wanted to see you," he says truthfully. She eyes him curiously, a small delighted smile pulling at her lips.

"Okay, then," she replies. "I'll buy that. Any specific reason?"

"Good news," he answers. She raises an eyebrow.

"What kind of good news?"

"Something to do with my piano," he tells her.

She rolls her eyes. "That'll be a first." Suddenly, understanding dawns on her and she looks up at him in shock, her arms unfolding just slightly. "Wait, you don't mean...?"

"I've gotten a new job," he breathes, a corner of his lips twitching up.

Her eyes widen for a moment before a megawatt smile breaks out across her face.

"You're kidding!" she cries, enthusiastically. "That's wonderful news."

"Matsumoto came by this morning," he goes on, placing a hand against her doorway as he continues. "She said it's just a last minute job, but it's still something."

"Of course," she agrees, nodding excitedly. "_Any _work is good news. So, give me the details, at least."

He shakes his head. "Don't have them yet," he answers. "I'm waiting for Matsumoto to call." Digging through his pocket, he holds up his phone as an added explanation. She scoffs.

"So, you don't know _anything?_" she complains, huffing a little.

"Well, I know it's at a restaurant," he relents, smirking at her annoyed posture. "Just a small gig playing music for the guests tonight. It'll only take a few hours, but that's more than I've been playing recently."

"I'll say," she grumbles. "Some people just – wait. Tonight?" Her forehead creases at the implications of the word sinks in. He shifts uncomfortably at her sudden sharp glare. He hadn't expected such a shift in her mood, especially hostility.

"You see, that's another thing I needed to tell you about," he says. "It looks like I might not be able to make our date tonight, since the job is at the same time. You understand, right?"

"What?" she asks softly, looking taken aback at this new revelation.

"The date," he repeats, looking at her in apology. "I was hoping we could postpone it?"

"...You asked me out for tonight," she reminds him softly, eying his grimace.

"Yes, but -"

"Just last night," she cuts across him, her jaw set in defiance. "_Just last night, you _said you wanted to have dinner with me _tonight_."

He averts his eyes in shame slightly. "Yes, but that was before I was offered a gig -"

"So, what?" she demands. Her hands immediately go to her hips as she glowers at him. "You're just _canceling _on me?"

"It's not that I want to," he retorts, "but that I have a job -"

"Spare me!" she spits out, stepping away from him with fire blazing in her eyes. "So, what? A precious job is more important than a promise _you_ made to take me out?"

"It wasn't a _promise,_" he argues.

"You asked, which is the same thing," she hisses, acid dripping from each word. "I can't believe you would just go back on your word like this, Toushiro. I thought you were a good guy."

"You're calling me a bad guy?" he asks, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "Well, sorry I couldn't live up to whatever expectations you have in your head."

"Oh, you don't have to apologize," she replies in a matter-of-fact tone, crossing her arms across her chest. "It was my own fault for thinking you were _trustworthy _or _reliable."_

"Just what is the big deal?" he snarls. "It was just a date. It isn't as if we can't reschedule it."

"Like I would _want_ to go on another date with you _now_," she growls.

Those words actually hurt. It is not as if this is his fault. He had wanted to go on this date with her, had asked her because he wants to spend more time with her and learn about her. But he has people counting on him – people other than just her. And he feels that she is being a little unreasonable.

"Feeling's mutual," he replies icily. "As if I would want to date someone so..._selfish_."

She grits her teeth in her wrath, but the heat in her eyes doubles and she bares her upper lip back over her teeth at him, her anger reaching breaking point.

"Guess you learned something about me without even taking me out on a date, huh?" she says coldly, and he knows she is using all of her will not to shriek at him. "Why doesn't it surprise me that you go back on your deals, too?"

Before he can shoot back a defensive retort, she spins on her heel and stomps into her house, slamming the front door shut in his glaring face.

He _really _wants a piano to let out all of his feelings on right now.

**.. ღ ..**

He goes straight to Matsumoto's place, knowing her piano had been returned some time last night. She had moved to an apartment closer to his many years ago, and had simply packed _everything _she's owned through his childhood into that tiny space, not having had the heart to throw out anything. She is not home when he arrives – probably out job hunting – so he pulls out the spare key she had given him and lets himself in, heading straight for his desired instrument. But, even _hours _after dedicated practice and abuse at the piano, he returns to his apartment still in rage, fuming furiously over his heated argument with the girl he had only hours ago been so excited to take out on a date. He scoffs at that.

_'Last time I make _that_ mistake,' _he thinks bitterly, scowling at the mere memory of her shutting the door behind her.

Gritting his teeth, adrenaline still pumping from the argument, he starts randomly shuffling through the music sheets strewn about on his coffee table. It is a shallow comfort, and he feels himself unable to concentrate on the notes, really. His mind keeps reminding him that he wrote _this _piece and _that _piece for Karin, and then he feels anger wash over him all over again.

Just where does she get off? She has no right to judge him for today, not after _she _had been the one so ecstatic about returning him to his work. He has been trying hard for her! And to think, she does not even appreciate the effort enough to let him off for one night.

Fuming, he just paces the living room, his arms crossed. Matsumoto still has not called yet, and that only serves to aggravate him more. The thought of the job falling through and getting canceled only incites him more, because then this would have all been for nothing. A distraction right now would be _very _welcome.

Speaking of distractions...

To his irritation, he remembers that he not only had had a date, but a sign language class that evening as well, which should have been attended right before he left to pick up Karin. It begins in only half of an hour, and he has yet to cancel, what with all of the drama with his ex-date. Grumbling to himself, he snatches the phone with one angry swipe, pressing down on the buttons harder than necessary, and impatiently tapping his foot until someone picks up.

"Kuchiki Rukia," chirps the sugary voice on the other end – her business tone, as he has come to know.

"It's Hitsugaya," he says, attempting with all of his might to keep the rage from seeping into his voice. It wouldn't do to redirect it to someone who has done nothing wrong.

"Oh," she replies, and suddenly that excited tone is no more. "Any particular reason you called me? I'll be seeing you in just a half hour."

"That's exactly what I wanted to talk to you about," he says, sighing. "I won't be coming this evening. I have a last minute job."

"That's great!" Rukia cheers on the other line. She knows of the predicament involving his job from Karin. "I understand about the class. You can always make it up later, of course. You need to concentrate on the work, after all."

"Thank you," he answers gratefully. Finally, someone understands.

"Oh, but...wait," she suddenly speaks up. He can hear her hum in thought for a moment. "...What about Karin?"

"What about her?" he asks innocently, feeling his stomach twist. Could she possibly know?

"Don't you two have a date tonight?" she wonders. He feels heat creep up to his cheeks at the question. The idea of telling the girlfriend of Karin's brother seems rather embarrassing, as he knows the two are close. Just how many people _had _she told about today? He cannot fathom _why_, either.

"We, um, had no choice but to cancel," he explains, hoping he sounds off-handed and casual.

"Rescheduling later?" she wants to know, sounding a little firm. He has a feeling her eyebrows are scrunched at the moment, protective towards her friend. He coughs awkwardly, feeling slightly sheepish as he rubs the back of his head.

"Actually, she has made it clear that she would rather _not _reschedule."

"She screamed at you, didn't she?" Rukia deadpans, sounding exasperated.

"How did you know?"

"It's Karin's way," she says, sighing in frustration. "When she's disappointed or angry, she doesn't really know how to express it."

"Oh, she was _definitely _angry," he remembers with a smile full of mirth. Rukia chuckles weakly.

"Maybe a little disappointed, too," she adds on thoughtfully. He feels an eyebrow raise in astonishment, and cannot help but ponder the word.

"I don't think so," he finally replies. "She hardly _seemed _let down."

"Of course, she wouldn't want you to know," Rukia counters in a matter-of-fact tone. "That's just who she is."

"Why would she be so upset?" he wonders aloud to himself, a little confused at the meaning behind her shrieking now. Rukia sighs.

"You see, I think Karin was actually looking forward to going on a date with you," she tells him grimly. "She tried to hide it, but she told us all this morning that she would be out with you, and she even delayed going back to her dorm room until _very _early tomorrow morning. She was originally planning to go this evening, you know. And when you canceled, I guess you sort of disappointed her a bit, and she blew a fuse when she didn't mean to."

He feels like a jerk after they hang up.

After all Karin has done for him, he cannot even keep a single promise and make her happy for the night. He thinks back to the argument, and he is sure now that there _had _been disappointment hidden behind that anger. Maybe even hurt. He groans into his hands, his thoughts conflicted. On one side there is this new job he has been waiting for, and on the other there is Karin...Well, _that_ is hardly a competition. He doesn't understand how he hadn't seen it before.

He takes care and time to fully shower and dress appropriately for his first formal date with a woman he hopes will be his future girlfriend. Well, if she forgives him, which he sincerely hopes she does. He has had no time to make a reservation where he had wanted to, but taking her out is really all that matters, no matter what the place. All he needs now is for Matsumoto to call him so he can cancel on her, and everything will be settled.

He can only hope Karin doesn't try to kill him on sight.

**.. ღ ..**

Yuzu answers the door when he rings the doorbell.

"Hitsugaya-san!" she cried in surprise, and then her voice drops to a low whisper as she eyes him sympathetically. "I don't think Karin-chan wants to see you right now."

"I know," he replies. "But it's urgent. Could I please come in?"

She eyes him for a moment before sighing and opening the door farther, stepping aside to allow him entry. He takes off his shoes at the door, looking around. It looks exactly as he remembers it, and so he is the first one to walk into the living room. Karin is sitting on the couch alone, still in her sweats and her hair now in a messy bun, flipping through channels in a bored fashion. When she feels someone watching her, she looks up to meets his eyes.

"What are _you _doing here?" she demands, jumping up. A scowl planted on her face, she rounds on Yuzu, who is standing behind him, looking nervous. "Yuzu, how could you let him in?" she barks. "I told you he's an ass!"

"It wasn't Kurosaki-san's fault," he interjects. "I came here on my own."

"Well, what do you want?" she snaps, crossing her arms in defiance. "I don't want to see you."

He sighs. "I know you're mad at me, but I'd still like to take you out."

She snorts in disbelief. "What about your _precious job?_" she asks dryly, rolling her eyes.

"I'll cancel it," he replies nonchalantly. Her arms unfold a little in surprise. "You were right. I made a promise to you, and I'll keep it. I'm not a man to go back on my word."

"...You're really going to cancel?" she asks carefully, looking a little unconvinced.

"Nothing else _to _do," he answers, feeling relieved that she no longer seems so upset with him. At least the fire has gone out of her eyes, and he feels decidedly happy that she no longer feels the need to glare every time she looks at him.

"But, your job!" she cries heatedly. "It's the first one in such a long time, and what if you never get another one for even longer?"

He smirks. "You're not supposed to try convincing me to back out again," he tells her, an eyebrow raised in amusement. She chuckles sheepishly. "It's all right, Karin," he adds, very serious. "I made a commitment to you first. Matsumoto should be calling me soon, and I'll tell her I can't make it."

"I...Thanks, Toushiro." She grins shyly up at him, and he returns it with his own twitch of the lips. Finally, she looks down at herself, her lips puckered in distaste. "Well, I can't go out like _this. _People would stare. I think I'll go change."

"Take your time," he assures her, taking a seat on the couch to show her he can wait patiently. She nods happily before dashing out to the hallway, and he can hear the loud stomps of her thundering up the staircase quickly. A door slams shut soon after.

Yuzu wanders away to the kitchen, so he carelessly takes out his cellphone, studying it and sifting through its many features as he waits. Numerous texts from Karin are saved in the memory, and he remembers humorously how nervous he had been to text her that first time. Matsumoto had always told him that women never liked it when a man seemed too eager, so calling too early was a major turn-off. Well, _that _had certainly had his head spinning for a while. He'd fretted over _when _the right time to call her would be, and finally, after all that trouble, _she _had texted him first. Just a small little note about her looking forward to his recital, but it had meant a lot to him, as well as set him at ease for replying and sending messages in the future.

As he reads through some of the older replies from her, his cellphone suddenly vibrates furiously, belting out a piano piece – his ring tone. He presses the _talk _button, and puts the speaker to his ear.

"Hello?"

"_Toushiro, it's me!"_ his manager chirps happily on the other side.

"Matsumoto, where have you been all day?" he demands firmly. "I haven't heard from you."

"_Sorry," _she replies sheepishly. _"When I got home, I passed out from the hangover, and I forgot about the job, so I went shopping after I woke up. I left my phone in the car."_

He growls under his breath at her complete lack of responsibility. You'd think a grown woman would have more sense.

"_Anyway," _she hurries on, _"I finally remembered a while ago, so I rushed to the restaurant. I'm calling from there. The performance starts in an hour, but I think you can make it."_

He sighs heavily. "About that..."

"_I have the address written down," _she continues, ignoring his side of the conversation. He hears a bit of rustling, and then static as she comes on again. _"Here it is."_

"Matsumoto, I -"

"_It's not far from the apartment at all," _she goes on. _"We actually came here once, when Momo and her husband came to visit at Christmas. It's a really nice place. Do you remember?"_

His breath hitches in his throat tightly. _That _restaurant? Oh, surely the gods don't hate him _this _much? _Why _couldn't his manager have called him earlier? The whole fiasco with the argument could have been avoided! Damn Matsumoto.

Karin strides in soon after he hangs up with the details, straightening her new, pressed outfit. She'd figured they are going somewhere more formal, as that seems more Toushiro's style, so she had begrudgingly slipped on another skirt and blouse combination.

"What's wrong?" she asks warily, buttoning the cuff of her blouse as she enters the room and sees his irritated expression. It twists even farther into a scowl at her inquiry.

"The performance," he seethes, scowling at his phone. "It's _at _the restaurant I wanted to take you to."

**.. ღ ..**

When the two make it to the restaurant, Karin has long since forgotten the rage she had felt, and instead has an amused smirk planted on her face as she observes him from the corner of her eyes. He, however, has a murderous gleam in _his _eyes when Matsumoto cheerfully waves her hand at the approaching car in the parking lot, bouncing up and down. It had been _her _fault he and Karin had ever argued.

'Geez, Hitsugaya. You look so scary," she comments through the open window as they pull in. "Could you maybe tone that down a bit before we go in? Don't want to scare the employer."

His date stifles a snicker behind her hand, slamming the car door shut as she gets out and watches him glare heatedly at her.

"Matsumoto," he growls. "I'm not in the mood."

Pouting, she looks away, not knowing the reason why he is suddenly acting so cold. Then, she catches sight of the raven hair.

"Karin-chan!" she squeals, skipping around the car and engulfing the girl in a hug. "Why're you here?"

"Because I asked her to be," he snaps instead, pulling Karin into his own arms and away from her grip. Placing an arm around her, he leads her to the front entrance, leaving Matsumoto to yell out a mix between protests of indignation at being left behind and squeals at their cuteness.

The diner is actually very classy, as Karin had expected. A blast of air-conditioning hits them as they walk in, and Karin shivers lightly as she adjusts to the sudden temperature. He tightens his hold around her. They find tables covered in pale yellow tablecloths littering the room, with shining cutlery placed formally at each seat, and the delicious smell of food lingering in the air. And at the far end of the room is a grand stage, on which stands a beautiful piano, polished and ready for use.

"Ah, Hitsugaya-san!" a graying man calls out to him upon catching sight of the couple. He abandons his post at the front podium. "Welcome!" With a cheerful grin, he rushes over and sticks out a hand. Toushiro takes it with his free hand, giving him a firm, professional handshake before letting it drop to his side.

"Good hands you've got there," the man compliments, looking impressed. "I'm hoping that means I'm getting an _excellent _performance. I'm the owner, Ikeda Hiroshi, by the way."

"Pleasure to meet you," Toushiro responds automatically, but it really is. He seems like a good man.

"No, no. The pleasure is all mine," Ikeda replies, beaming in a good-natured way. He does a double take when he catches sight of Karin, but then his grin widens ever more, if that is even possible. "And who's this?" he asks slyly, sticking out a hand. "Either that manager of yours is a shape-shifter, or you're in the company of yet _another _beautiful woman."

Karin rolls her eyes playfully at his words, but returns the handshake, anyway.

"Kurosaki Karin," she introduces herself.

"Excellent!" the man booms. "Well, come this way." He gestures grandly with his hand and the two follow him across the room. "I think you're really going to love our piano," he exclaims as they walk up the stage. "It's in top condition. We take good care of it."

Toushiro nods in approval as he eyes the instrument. Even Karin marvels at it.

"I can't wait to see you play this thing," she whispers to him. He smirks, coiling his arm around her waist even tighter.

"Of course, you'll be up here with me?" He knows, though, that she is more of a background person.

She looks at him in horror. "Me? Just sitting here in front of the crowd? No thanks."

"How else are you going to feel me play?" he asks innocently. She bites her bottom lip, looking uneasily at the crowd, then longingly at the piano and him. "I plan on playing the newest compositions I've written," he adds as a deal breaker. "Even _you _haven't heard them yet."

That settles it for her. "Fine," she relents with a defeated sigh, slipping out of his grasp and sliding onto the piano bench. "But I'm sitting on the side next to the wall, so nobody can see me."

He shrugs and takes a stance behind her. "So, when exactly would you like me to play?" he questions Ikeda. However, Matsumoto, who had caught up with them during his exchange with Karin, answers instead.

"You still have fifteen minutes," she assures him. "Most of the dinner guests come at that time...Right?" She turns to Ikeda for feedback, and he nods in agreement.

"All right," Toushiro agrees, and then points off to the side, addressing the cheerful owner instead, "Could we speak for a moment?"

Ikeda's brows furrow, but he nods seriously. "Certainly."

The two men stride over to the more private area, and Toushiro sends Matsumoto a pointed look, telling her to stay put. She pouts, but gives a jerk of her head in compliance. He knows he needn't worry about Karin.

"It's about my payment," Toushiro mutters to his employer. "Now, Matsumoto hasn't yet told me how much you two agreed upon, but -"

"Say no more, Hitsugaya-san," the man interrupts, putting up a hand to stop him and shaking his head. "I already know you're a very famous man, and you're probably used to making lots of money. Well, I'm proud to say that I'm successful enough to match any -"

"Ikeda-san," Toushiro cuts across him. "I'm not worried about the _amount. _Rather, I'm just wondering whether you wouldn't mind a different kind of payment?"

He raises his eyes in curiosity. "Do tell."

"Would you mind if we waved aside that payment, and instead, you gave me a dinner reservation for two tonight?" He tries not to think of Matsumoto's enraged reaction.

Ikeda blinks, not having expected that. "That's a rather strange request."

"I meant to make reservations myself," Toushiro explains quickly. "But the day has been rather hectic and I didn't find a chance. So, if you could, I would greatly appreciate it." His eyes unconsciously flicker over to Karin, who has struck up a conversation with his manager. Ikeda follows his gaze, and the two watch as she erupts into laughter at something the bubbly woman had said. His eyes light up with understanding, and he grins slyly over at the pianist.

"Oho! Say no more!" he cries out enthusiastically, rather reminding the grimacing musician of Kurosaki Isshin. "I understand completely. A reservation for two for you and your lovely lady friend. I'll alert the staff. No charge!"

"You don't have to go that far," Toushiro says hastily, but the man shakes his head.

"Nonsense! Robbing you doesn't sit well with me. You'll be playing for me, so the least I can do is give you a free dinner. Actually, I still feel like you're getting the short end of the deal. The payment I had chosen was much larger than dinner here costs." He bites the inside of his cheek in worried thought. "How about if I give you the dinner and pay you the rest -"

"Ikeda-san," Toushiro interjects once _again_, suddenly serious. "Please. You have no idea how much you will give me with just a simple dinner." His eyes soften at the thought of his date, and Ikeda cannot help but nod, a little dumbfounded at the sudden display of emotion.

"Hey, are you two _done _yet?" Matsumoto snaps, and they turn to find both women watching them curiously. They quickly return, and Toushiro settles in next to Karin on the piano bench, the time for his performance approaching.

"We'll be sitting over there," Ikeda tells Toushiro, pointing to an empty table. He holds out an arm to Matsumoto, who gladly slips her hand through it. He leads them away.

"So, what's going on with those two?" the pianist hears him ask her in a hushed whisper as they walk away. She giggles.

"Oh, they'll be getting married in the future," she gossips. "They just don't know it yet."

Toushiro feels himself flush, and thanks his lucky stars that Karin cannot hear.

**.. ღ ..**

The audience bursts into applause when he slams down his fingers on the final keys. He can see both Ikeda and Matsumoto clapping as loudly as possible, and Karin is beaming up at him fondly. He cannot believe he had ever grown tired of _this. _It is a great feeling, and he has Karin to thank for rekindling it.

"Excellent, Hitsugaya-san," Ikeda compliments him, running up to the stage. "Even better than I could have imagined! You'll _have _to come back and play for me again."

"Of course," he agrees whole-heartedly. It had been an enjoyable experience, playing for a smaller and more enthusiastic crowd – more intimate.

"Now, I haven't forgotten about our little deal," he goes on excitedly. Karin raises an eyebrow when he bows to them grandly and gestures to an empty, private table by the corner of the stage. "A table for two."

Smirking, Toushiro takes the confused Karin by the hand and pulls her along. Too bemused to protest, she lets him tuck in her chair for her, and then he walks around and takes the second seat across. An eager waiter, perhaps on par with Ikeda himself in energy, rushes up to take their orders.

"Toushiro, what's going on?" Karin finally asks.

"Have you forgotten the _date _part of our evening?" he asks her in amusement. Her eyes pop open in realization.

"Oh, yeah!" she cries, slapping the heel of her palm against her forehead. "I was so into watching you play, I kinda forgot." With a small chuckle, she finally places her order, and he does the same.

"I hope you're enjoying yourself _so far,_" he says after the boy rushes off. "I'm sure this hasn't gone as you expected."

"Hey, no worries," Karin negates with a grin. "At least we're out, huh? And that whole stupid argument's behind us." She smiles devilishly, leaning forward a bit. "But you're going to have to make this _really good. _Yuzu and Rukia-nee will want to hear every detail, I'm sure, and I'm _positive _Ichi-nii and Otou-san will be listening through the door." She laughs when he groans at the image. "When you date _one _Kurosaki, you've got to handle us_ all._"

"I think I'm up for that challenge," he declares.

"Oh, _really?_" she jokes. "You should have seen what happened to the last guy who said that."

He frowns deeply. "How many guys _have _you dated, anyway?" he asks, trying to sound casual and not at all curious. It has never occurred to him that she might have an extensive dating history.

"Now, now," she scolds him playfully. "There'll be none of _that _talk. We had a deal – you'll have to wait until the date's over, and then you only get _one _fact_. _Until then, talk about me is off limits."

He stares at her incredulously, not even realizing the waiter is setting their food on the table. "Just _what _are we going to talk about if I can't talk about you at all?"

She shrugs. "Did you catch the football game last night?" she attempts weakly, and he rolls his eyes.

"Sorry," he replies, grabbing his cutlery. "I was at a wedding last night."

"Tsk, tsk," she replies wagging a finger at him and going for her own silverware. "A _true _fan would have taped it and watched it the next day. _I _did. And I had a wedding to go to, too, you know."

And so their banter begins. He finds that he is actually enjoying himself. Talking with her is so easy, even when he can see Matsumoto two tables away, watching everything and squealing at every interaction. He is hardly as self-conscious as he had thought he would be. At one point, she even reaches over and grabs his hand across the table, and he doesn't flinch away from the contact, as he would have done with anyone else.

She laughs a lot, he learns. And not just fake titters, but full on bouts of loud laughter that shake her whole body as she throws her head back. He enjoys watching her eyes light up so brightly. It makes the witty remarks come so much easier when he knows he can anticipate her joyful reaction.

She also doesn't care for the way she looks, he observes. More than once her hair falls over her face, becoming untidy, yet she only brushes it away impatiently. Though this always causes the strands to become a disheveled mess atop her head, she pays it no mind. Some time during the night, she gets up to go to the ladies' room ("I gotta use the can, Toushiro"), and when she returns, her hair is _still _a mess, no different than what it had been before, though she _had _to have seen herself in a mirror. He finds it refreshing.

The end of the night comes too soon for him. He can confidently say that by the time Ikeda-san comes over to bid them good-night, he is absolutely _enchanted _by her.

"Well, Hitsugaya-san, it was a pleasure," Ikeda says, grabbing his hand for one last thorough handshake. "I hope you enjoyed dinner. Of course, there's no charge."

"Thank you, Ikeda-san," Toushiro answers.

"No, no, son. _Thank you,_" the man replies with a chuckle. Next, he affectionately ruffles Karin's hair in a fatherly way, and Toushiro feels respect grow for this man. With a wave, he departs to speak to other guests.

"Nice man," Karin comments, and he agrees. "So, should we head out?" she asks then. He nods slowly, his lips pursed. He is not ready to end the date so soon. And like a gift from the gods, she continues, "I wish we had a bit longer, though. It feels like the night went by so fast."

"It doesn't have to end now," he says quickly, taking advantage of the moment. She turns to him with a quizzical look, so, trying to sound off-handed, he suggests, "How about we go for a walk?"

She raises an amused eyebrow. "A little cliché, don't you think?" she teases him, snickering. "Did you have a specific place in mind, or should we just drive to the beach and walk barefoot through the sand, holding hands?"

"Ha, ha," he deadpans. "No, I was thinking we could just walk back to your home? It's a nice night, and I'm sure Matsumoto would appreciate having her car for the drive back."

"Sounds like a plan," Karin agrees, and their chairs scrape against the floor as they stand up. He strides over to his manager, digging the car keys out of his pocket.

"Matsumoto." He places a hand on her shoulder and grabs her attention. In response to her quizzical look, he holds out the keys. "Here are your keys. Karin and I are going for a walk."

"Have fun!" she sings, and then wiggles her eyebrows suggestively. "Now don't go stopping in any alley for a little hanky-panky, you hear? A woman likes the first time to be romantic."

"Just take the damn keys," he snaps, hating that his cheeks feel warm. "I'm simply walking her back. Get your mind out of the gutter."

"Fine, fine," she says, chuckling at his embarrassment. "I think I'll just get our payment from Ikeda-san, and then head home."

He gulps. He'd forgotten to tell Matsumoto about the deal he had made with the restaurant owner. Oops. But he certainly doesn't want to be the one to tell her _now_.

"Come on, Karin. Let's go," he says in a rush, just grabbing her hand and dragging her away as fast as he can, leaving no time for questions. He forces himself not to look back as he hears his manager talking with Ikeda. They are _almost _to the front door when she erupts.

"_What!" _she shrieks. "What do you _mean _he said he doesn't want any _payment? Toushiro!"_

"Toushiro, what the hell is going on?" Karin demands as he pulls her out of there, speeding up a little and pretending that he cannot hear Matsumoto go on a rampage. She obviously cannot hear the commotion happening behind them, or the guests gasping as the sound of something breaking reaches his ears.

"Let's just go," he replies, fretting a little at the condition the place will be in when the orange top finally calms down. It is only when they make it a "safe" distance away that he lets hand go, allowing her to finally walk beside him normally. The two wander slowly.

"That was interesting," she comments carefully.

"Matsumoto can be a little over the top sometimes," he answers simply. She eyes him curiously, but decides she is better off not knowing.

"Well, I had a good time," she assures him.

"Really?"

She shrugs. "Sure. It was definitely interesting, as far as first dates go, though it _was_ weird having your manager there too, watching our every move."

His face contorts into a pained expression for a moment, and she laughs.

"Well, I think you're forgetting," he says, wanting to change the subject, "but you promised me a fact."

"Oh, right!" she cries out. Then, she taps her chin with her finger, thinking hard. "Let's see...What would you want to know?...I hate the color pink!"

"Karin," he says firmly, and she laughs again.

"What? It's a fact," she defends herself, winking saucily. He rolls his eyes.

"You could hardly consider _that _sufficient payment for an _entire _date," he argues, feeling his own lips curve into a smirk. She sticks out her tongue. "Tell me something I can't figure out on my own."

"Like what?"

"Hmm...How about something in your past? High school, maybe?"

"Well, my high school life wasn't really _that _exciting, to tell you the truth," she tell him thoughtfully. Her face lights up suddenly as she thinks of something. "Oh! I used to be on the track team. Does that count?"

He ponders over that. "All right," he finally agrees. "So, you like running?"

She nods happily. "Anything that involves _moving_, really."

He chuckles. "Yes. That sounds like you."

She swats his arm. "What's that supposed to mean?" she demands playfully. "I'll have you know I won lots of awards for my school."

He holds up his arms in defense. "I'm not denying that. Do you still do anything of the sort, though? Sports, I mean."

She pauses, and he catches her face falling slightly. "No," she mumbles. "I quit the track team after some time, actually. After I lost my hearing."

A twist in his stomach makes him feel nauseous. To be so young to lose something so precious. And as only just a vulnerable high school girl. He can feel that it is just around the corner. The dreaded tale of _how? _He wants to know _so badly_, but...

"We should do this again sometime," he says instead. She looks up in surprise. "I still don't know enough about you. How about it?"

"Okay!" she agrees happily, beaming up at him. Her face twists into thought. "Hey, I'm heading back to my college dorm tomorrow. If you help me pack up and head over, I _might _just feel grateful enough to count it as a date," she hints teasingly.

"All right," he agrees.

The two continue on their walk, their voices drifting through the silent night air. The coolness of the air feels so wonderful against his skin, and as does the fact that he has just successfully dated Karin. There doesn't seem to be _too _profound a change in their relationship just yet, but he can tell they're getting there, at their own pace. And he is sure at their own time, he will finally learn the _how? _of the secret she keeps so safe. But not today.

It is not a question for tonight.

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry for the long wait, everyone. But, no worries - I have updated! Surprisingly, I have nothing else to say...Well, hope you enjoyed this one :)<strong>


	7. Chapter 7

**So, my finals are finally over and my winter break has begun, so to celebrate, I bring you this new (and longest) chapter! It feels good to be free :D I've been working on this since the last update, if you can believe it. That's right - 3 months. To let you know, the next one is only one-fourth of the way done, though I'm not making any promises to update quickly...But I'll try my best!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any of its characters.**

* * *

><p>She huffs as she drops her bag on the pavement next to his borrowed car.<p>

"That's everything," she announces, and he nods, already heading for the back of the vehicle to open the trunk after taking the bag in hand. Another bag is hanging from his shoulder. In the meantime, a blubbering Isshin, tears streaming down his cheeks, stumbles over to her.

"Oh, my baby," he sobs, rubbing at his tears with his arm. "Going so far away from home, on your own, without your Daddy to show you the ropes."

"Oh, can it, old man," she snaps, clenching her teeth. "I put up with this speech last semester. And I'm only a half hour drive away."

Ichigo, rolling his eyes, pushes his father out of the way to ruffle his baby sister's hair.

"Take care of yourself," he grunts before wandering over to stand by the wall of the house. Rukia, who had been right behind him, gives Karin a reassuring pat on the arm before following her boyfriend. A bubbly Yuzu bounces up to her next.

"Have fun, Karin-chan," she chirps, throwing her arms around her twin. Karin sighs – though her eyes soften – and pats her back.

"I will," she replies softly. "And you, work hard." Yuzu bobs her head happily. He's heard from Karin that since her teenage years, she's been working for a sweet, old woman who owns the bakery down the street. Since her motherly employer has no living relatives close by, she's marked in her will that she would like Yuzu to inherit it, who had gladly – and _tearfully_ – accepted the offer.

_Thump!_

He slams the car trunk, calling attention to himself from the rest of the family.

"I'm done," he informs them, and she detaches herself from her sister.

"Great." With a grin, she strides over to the passenger side, and he to the driver's. Before getting in, she turns back one last time.

"See you this weekend," she calls over, throwing a glare at her father for being so overdramatic. Then, she clambers in and the two shut their doors before adjusting their seat belts and driving away.

"_Finally,_" she sighs, stretching back into her seat and sighing. "They make such a fuss. I mean, I understood the first time last year, but you'd think we'd get over that seeing as how this is my second time leaving now."

"You come home in between every semester?" he asks, smoothly turning at an intersection.

"Yeah. And the weekends, _and _the holidays, _and _whenever Otou-san goes on one of his crying jags and starts visiting me every night at three _'just to hear the sound of my precious voice.'_" She rolls her eyes heavily. "He wasn't this crazy when Ichi-nii went off to college."

"Yes, but you're his youngest little daughter," he teases. She punches his arm, grinning.

"What about you?" she wants to know. "Don't you have school?"

"I've already finished," he replies smugly. She lurches towards him in surprise, her eyes wide.

"No way!" she cries. "You're only a couple years older than me, and I'm turning _twenty _this May."

"Accelerated program," he explains simply, keeping his eyes glued to the busy road. "The college I went to had a prestigious art program, and they let me earn credits at my own pace, which was obviously very fast, as well as giving me permission to leave class early for my piano playing. Or, as they liked to call it, my special circumstances. It only took me three years."

She whistles low in admiration. "Damn. Wish _I _played an instrument."

He smirks but doesn't say anything.

"So, what did you study?" she asks curiously.

"You do realize, Karin," he says slyly, "that if you're going to ask me facts about myself, you'll have to return the courtesy."

She glares at him and protests, "No fair! I already promised you one for today, didn't I?"

"It's only fair," he argues. Although she stomps her foot, he soon hears her sigh in defeat.

"Oh, all right. We'll _exchange _this time. Happy?"

"Very. So, of course I studied music. Music appreciation, composing, the mediums, practicing. I dabbled in the other arts too, though."

"Like what?" she wants to know, and then chuckles. "I don't see you as much of a dancer."

His lips twitch up despite himself. "Writing," he remembers. "I've always found words to be full of expression. Design, like architecture, though only briefly. More of the quieter arts really." He flickers his eyes over to her. "And you?"

"I'm studying law," she replies promptly. "Unfortunately, _I _don't get special treatment like _some _freaky geniuses, so it'll take me the full three years." He smirks at her bitter tone.

"You realize your problems would be solved if you were just a genius yourself?" he teases, and she pretends to look insulted.

"Why law, though?" he asks.

She shrugs. "I don't really know," she answers thoughtfully. "I guess losing my hearing made me open my eyes to the world. It's not perfect. When I was in the hospital, I saw a lot of horrible things happening to the patients who all have their own stories of injustice. And now I know how unfairly people with disabilities can be treated, and it's just _not right._"

She definitely has a strong sense of justice. He's known that for a long time, especially by the way she gets so heated when speaking of something being unfair to someone else. It suits her, becoming a lawyer.

"You'll be wonderful," he assures her, and she grins.

"Thanks. But I still have two years to go."

"You waited a year after high school, correct?" he asks, smoothly turning into her university's street.

She nods. "It took me a while to feel like I was ready for college," she admits. "I mean, I was already so uncomfortable with going to high school, even after I learned about _you_, so I had to adjust to the idea."

"Me?" he picks out of her answer.

She laughs. "Yes, you. I never told you, did I? That your piano is what made me finally stop pitying myself and learn to put my life back together. I was just _sad_ before that, and I was completely okay with destroying my future until you inspired me not to."

"How so?" he wants to know, in awe. He'd never known _how _profound his impact on her had been.

"I mean, you were so young, but so famous and talented. It made me feel a little inferior, to be honest," she admits begrudgingly. "I realized _I _was the one putting limitations on myself, and that was _not _something I was proud of."

"Hmm...That stubborn pride definitely_ sounds_ like you," he teases, and she punches his arm again.

"Oh, shut up!" she retorts, though she's laughing as they turn into the campus's parking lot.

When they arrive, he parks in a lot, cutting off the ignition. The two grab a suitcase each from the back, and then they begin the trudge to her dorm. The building is just a plain structure, standing not too high and not too proud. Her university is small, focusing only on her choice of career, and so the amount of students they see is next to none. He feels at peace as he takes in the barren, quiet surroundings, and thinks that if he had ever had a chance to go to school with her here, it would have been the most wondrous experience.

"Sorry, Toushiro," she says as they enter the girls' dorm, "but there are no elevators. We're gonna have to walk up the stairs."

He shrugs and leads the way, not very much bothered by this fact. The town he grew up in is similar, with nothing too grand to attract much attention. Well, not until it was discovered that he was a musical genius and reporters _flocked _immediately after. Though some had been awed by the experience, there had been many who hadn't bothered hiding their irritation by it.

"Well, here it is," she announces dramatically, gesturing to a small, wooden door tucked in the corner of a hallway. "Not the most exciting place in the world," she continues with a grin as she unlocks it, "but it's all right. Though I may be a bit biased." And she laughs as they enter.

He grunts with approval at first sight, though she doesn't know it. It's a small space, but he likes the simplicity of it. There's not much inside, but that seems to suit Karin. However, one thing catches his eye; there's a picture frame hanging on the wall across the room, and he takes note of Karin with another girl, short with brown hair.

"That's my roommate," Karin explains once she sees him examining it. "Kiyone. She's not around a lot, though, so I don't know when you'll get to meet her. Her house is close, so she stays with her family a lot. You remember her sister Isane? She was at the wedding, though Kiyone was sick and couldn't make it. Their family is friends with Nanao-san and Kyoraku-san too."

He nods carelessly, still a little mesmerized by the radiant smile on Karin's face in the picture. He finds himself approving of this Kiyone, if she can make her smile like that. It's..._different_ from the way she smiles around him, though he can't quite place why. But just as beautiful, of course.

"Well, come on," Karin suddenly says, grabbing him by the wrist and pulling him in. He has just enough time to shut the door behind him. "Don't just zone out by the front door," she chides him. "Your muscle work isn't over yet!"

He follows her down the long hallway across from the front, stopping at a room at the end.

"My room," she explains, swinging it open. "Kiyone's is on the right and the bathroom's on the left."

When they walk in, they're hit by a blast of cold air, and Karin crosses her arms and shivers.

"Don't you get heating?" he asks, incredulous.

She rolls her eyes. "Of course we do. I turned it off in my room when I left or else the bill would be huge."

As she adjusts the thermostat in the corner of the room, he takes the time to discretely observe his surroundings. This is, after all, where Karin spends so much of her time. There's a large bed, big enough for two – he blushes furiously at this observation – and a matching dresser set. Aside from that, there are posters of different sports players around the room and a small closet on one side. A window is at the opposite wall, and a study desk rests beside it.

"It's not much, but it's enough," she says. When he swings around in embarrassment, she's watching with crossed arms and a smirk on her face. She'd obviously been watching his great detective work this entire time.

"I didn't mean to snoop," he begins, but she waves a hand to cut him off.

"I'd do the same thing if I ever went into your room," she confesses without a hint of shame. "The way I see it, this is a fair trade. Besides, you'll be getting a _thorough _look now." When he raises his eyebrows, she points to the suitcases standing by the door and explains, "You're going to help me unpack."

He can't find it inside himself to refuse, so the next hour is spent unzipping suitcases and pulling out clothes. He observes that Karin keeps nothing unnecessary in her dorm room. It's only clothes and books and anything else she might need.

"My room at home is full of junk, though," she informs him in amusement. "I've never been one for cleaning, so I never bother throwing anything out. But when I come here, I only bother packing the bare necessities."

That's the exact opposite of him. He likes things organized and clean, so his home only has important things, but he comes prepared for _anything _anywhere he goes. He'd never thought he would find himself attracted to someone so _different _from himself, but it's happening right before his eyes.

"Do you want some tea before you go?" she offers once they're done. With a smirk, she adds, "I'd feel awful using you for _only _labor."

He smirks too. "That's all right," he declines. "I'm sure you need to set everything else up before the day starts. I'll be going home now."

"Already?" she whines with a sigh. "You just can't wait to get away from me, can you? I _knew _I should have given myself to you last night -"

"N-no!" he insists in shock. "Of course not. You absolutely didn't have to -"

It's only when her shoulders start shaking and she claps a hand to her mouth to stifle her laughter that he realizes she's teasing him.

"You're a _horrible _person," he groans, glaring at her lightly.

"It's not my fault!" she argues, finally gasping out her chuckles. "You take everything so _seriously_."

"Well, excuse me for not thinking of _us _as a joke," he bites back icily, a little sour about being tricked.

"All right, all right. I'm sorry," she finally relents, taking his hand in her own and patting the back of it comfortingly.

He looks down at it in embarrassment, still always shocked by how forward she can be a lot of the times. He's known she's blunt since the moment he met her, but it still takes getting used to. It's a little different from Matsumoto, who touches him just because she knows he finds it uncomfortable. Instead, Karin does so to make him _comfortable_, and because it puts her at ease too. He likes knowing he has that affect on her.

"Well," he finally ponders, slipping his hand in his pocket once she gives it back to him, unaware. "If you really want to have tea..."

"Then, what?" she prompts, smiling slowly.

"Would you like to go out somewhere with me now?" he asks her hopefully.

"Oh." She suddenly looks apologetic. "I'm sorry, Toushiro, but I have classes this afternoon. That's why I had to come back today."

"Then how about tonight?" he asks instead, not missing a beat. He's growing braver with her.

She smirks mischievously. "You know," she says teasingly, "some would say asking me out the next day is kind of desperate." At his sudden panicked expression, she laughs. "But I would love to go out with you tonight," she assures him. He breathes out deeply in relief. "Though I have class tomorrow morning too."

"We'll leave earlier and come back in time," he promises her. With that obstacle tackled, he pauses before suddenly getting up and heading for the door. "I'm sure you have things to get done before your classes start," he speculates as he puts on his shoes, and she nods in confirmation as she follows him. "I'll pick you up this evening, all right?"

With one last wave, he heads out to the stairs, and she shuts the door behind him.

**.. ღ ..**

As promised, he comes right on time that evening, dressed in casual wear for their date. When she opens the door to let him in, she sighs in relief at his outfit, gazing down at her own.

"You didn't tell me where we were going," she accuses him as she sticks her keys and wallet in the pocket of her jeans. "So I just put on something simple."

He nods approvingly. "Well, we're just going to a movie, so you're fine," he tells her, offering her one of his hands. She grasps it tightly to balance herself as she reaches down and sticks her feet into her shoes. He keeps her steady as she slips one finger into the heel and yanks on her sneakers. "Besides," he continues, "I'm sure you would look wonderful either way."

She rolls her eyes. "Don't get all soft and flirty on me now," she jokes, batting an airy hand at him. "Let's just get going."

He grins and follows her out, shutting the door behind him. They head down the stairs and into the parking lot, where the sun is just starting to set beyond the horizon. They reflexively cover their eyes with their hands on their foreheads as he leads her to the car.

"Oh, are we going somewhere far?" she asks curiously.

"Not _too _far," he assures her. "But it would certainly take a long time on foot."

Nodding, she gets in the car and buckles in, and he follows her example. The two drive off down the road, cruising through the streets easily. He's a _much _better driver than his manager, that's certain.

"Do you have a car of your own?" she wonders, realizing they have Matsumoto's once again.

He shakes his head. "I've never needed one before now." he answers thoughtfully. "Though I have my license, I have everything I need right near my apartment building, and the only places we've ever had to drive out far are recitals, but since Matsumoto is always with me, we always just drive out in hers." He suddenly smirks over at her and hints, "Though if these dates of ours are going to become a daily thing, I certainly wouldn't mind going out and buying one."

She laughs. "I told you not to go all flirty on me," she reminds him.

"It wasn't flirting," he defends himself innocently. "It was an invitation. You're welcome to reject it."

She pretends to put a finger to her chin and think. "It _sounds _good," she says slowly, a smile touching her lips, "but then _you'd _take up all my time."

"Is there anyone else you'd rather be with?" he questions her, pretending to be cocky as he makes a turn to the right. They find themselves on a dirt path, surrounded by trees, though she takes no notice.

She allows herself a chuckle. "_That's _true," she admits, briefly ghosting her hand over his. He can't help but blush, and averts his gaze to the road in determination. She grins.

Soon, they reach a barren, open area that looks _nothing_ like a movie theater. There are cars jammed together in the small lot with people milling around. A large, white screen hangs in the distance. By this time, the sun has finished setting, and there are lights hanging on the trees surrounding the secluded area, lighting up the way for those just driving in.

She raises an eyebrow in confusion. "Where are we?"

He smirks. "It's a drive-in movie," he explains, driving forward in line at the small ticket booth. "I thought it might be more interesting than a movie theater."

She beams. "Only _you_, Toushiro, would know where probably the _last _movie theater in the _country_ is," she jokes. "I didn't even know these existed anymore."

"Obviously more people know more than me, seeing how many cars there are," he counters logically. Soon, it is his turn at the ticket counter, and he rolls down his window to find himself facing a pink-haired man in squared glasses. Though he smiles at them, it is anything but warm, and Karin actually feels a chill run up her spine as the lenses of his glasses glint in the limited light.

"Welcome to the Las Noches drive-in theater," he says in a voice that sounds almost sadistic, though it _shouldn't_ in the situation – that just makes it more creepy. "How many are in your party today?"

"Two," Hitsugaya answers, pulling out his credit card and handing it to him through the window. The man swipes it to bill him for two tickets and, as he hands it back, he catches sight of the name signed on the back.

"Oh," he exclaims, gazing at Toushiro in surprise. "So you're the guy..."

Though Karin looks at him in bemusement, he nods in confirmation.

The pink haired man smirks. "Well, Grimmjow is waiting for you out there. I'll give him your license plate number. Enjoy the movie." Still grinning, he waves them on.

Toushiro rolls up his window so the cold air of the air-conditioning does not escape and drives straight to the crowded front, where even more cars are parked closely together than the already filled lot. His eyes flicker to the left and right, scouring the area for an empty space.

"Wouldn't it be easier to find a place in the back?" she points out, biting her lip. "I could probably read the lips better that way too."

"Nonsense," he replies, still keeping his eyes peeled on his surroundings. "Coming here would be meaningless if we got stuck behind people's heads and the tops of cars."

Before she can ask what he means, his face relaxes just slightly. She follows his line of sight to find a blue-haired man waving them over. Toushiro rolls down his window once again once they reach him.

"You Hitsugaya?" he grunts. When Toushiro nods, he beckons them to follow. "I've got your spot right here." They drive behind him slowly until he stops them next to an empty spot right in the middle of the front row. "Here."

They drive in smoothly, turning off the engine and unbuckling their seat belts soon after. Grimmjow stalks off afterwards.

"I took the liberty of calling ahead to reserve us a spot," he explains to his date. It had cost him an arm and a leg in money since somewhere as simple as this drive-in theater did not offer reserved parking, but he knows it will be worth it in the end.

"What was the point in that?" she wants to know. "It wouldn't matter much either way."

"Tonight it will," he assures her, refusing to answer her questioning look. As they wait for the movie to start, he goes off to the concession to buy her what she's in the mood to eat, and by the time he returns with his arms full, the lights are dimming. The people around them let out a cheer or honk their horns in appreciation before settling down, and he can see as he takes a seat that Karin is also excited. Good.

The big, white screen suddenly flashes an image from the projector from the back of the lot. As the credits flash on the black background, he keeps sneaking peeks at Karin, who has a steady gaze fixed on the screen, afraid to miss anything and become lost early on. However, when the main character suddenly pops up on the screen – she steels herself, staring intently at his lips – and speaks his first words, something flashes at the bottom of the screen. Karin's face softens into amazed understanding.

"This movie has subtitles," she breathes. Now sitting in the front makes sense.

"Astute observation," he teases her.

"But why?" she wants to know. "They don't normally have subtitles in movie theaters."

"You're right," he agrees, and turns his attention back to the screen, resisting an upwards twitch of the lips.

With her eyes narrowed, she turns her attention back to the movie and watches closely. It takes her a moment as she has to read the subtitle as well, but she suddenly notices something strange about the way the characters' lips mesh together.

"They're not speaking Japanese," she realizes.

"Impressive," he compliments her on figuring it out so quickly. "You're right. This movie is in Spanish."

"Do you..._speak _Spanish?" she asks curiously.

"Not a lick of it," he replies honestly, smirking.

She blinks up at him. "So why...?"

"The subtitles, for one," he explains. "I want you to enjoy this without worrying about staring at just their lips and maybe missing something." And then his face softens as he looks down at her bewildered expression. "Besides, this way, we're on equal footing."

She opens and closes her mouth a couple of times, unsure of what to say to express her gratitude at such a _thoughtful _date. She's never had anyone worry so much over her (except for maybe Ichi-nii, but when he was overprotective, it was annoying, but when Hitsugaya is so sincere for her, it's endearing). Normally, she would have been upset, but how _can _she be when he's obviously put so much effort into making this special for her? So instead, she just beams a shy, beautiful, grateful smile his way – the kind that makes his breath hitch right in his throat and causes his heart to skip a beat. Silently, she slithers a hand though the darkness in search for his, slipping it through his arm and interlocking her fingers with his. He gently pulls her to lean against him and rest her head on his shoulder, and then he presses his cheek to the top of her head, settling in contently to watch the movie with his date.

**.. ღ ..**

When the end credits begin rolling, the two suddenly feel awkward around one another. It had been no big deal being so close in the darkness, but now that the lights are suddenly starting to flicker on again, they feel shy at their sudden bravery. It doesn't help that the couples in the car around them are still furiously making out, unaware of their surroundings as they are too engrossed in their partners and ignorant of the movie's end because their eyes are closed.

"So," Karin begins slowly, untangling herself from him, "that was a pretty good movie."

"Um...yes," he agrees. No need to mention that he had been too entranced by her and her open, honest expressions to really pay attention to the movie; he really has no solid idea of what happened after the beginning. Little does he know, Karin had been too aware of _him_ too to pay any attention to the movie either. So, they both uneasily avoid any further conversation on the contents of the film as they separate farther.

"We should get you back now," he suggests, and she nods enthusiastically. It isn't late yet, but she thinks it might be a good idea to get back anyway, maybe to help with her mortification.

"Oh, but our trash," she points out.

"There's a trash can back at the stand," he recalls. "I'll go throw it out."

"I'll help," she offers.

He almost declines, his gentlemanly upbringing commanding him to do it himself as it would be rude to ask a lady to do such a thing, but Karin suddenly glares at him, almost as if she knows exactly what he is thinking, and he thinks it best not to do so. So the two pick up their trash until Matsumoto's car is spotless, and they carry it to the area by the ticket booths. However, as they toss everything into the bin, they suddenly catch sight of something perplexing. It's a little girl with green hair, lugging a gigantic garbage bag over her shoulder. They look at each other in shock once before instantly walking over to her.

"Hey there," Karin calls out to her. She looks up in curiosity.

"Who're you?" she asks in suspicion.

"We were just here to watch the movie," Karin explains. "Can I ask what you're doing?"

"I'm taking out the trash," the girl replies as if it's obvious.

Toushiro purses his lips. "Yes, well, can we ask you _why_ you're taking out the trash?"

She blinks at them a few times before setting down the garbage and smirking smugly. "'Cause I own this place!" she announces grandly, throwing her arms out to indicate their surroundings. "Obviously, I gotta keep it clean for the customers."

Toushiro and Karin eye her in disbelief before gazing at one another again. What she'd said doesn't make any sense. She's a kid!

Suddenly, the blue-haired man they had met before – Grimmjow – stalks over angrily, having heard everything. He doesn't even pause to glance at the two as he glares at the girl, swings his hand back, and smacks her head hard.

"Stop tellin' 'em lies and get back to work, brat," he growls dangerously.

"Screw you, Grimmjow!" she screams before pulling down her eye and sticking out her tongue at him. Then, she grabs her garbage bag and books it away from there, narrowly dodging the leg Grimmjow swipes at her in a kick.

"That brat," he mutters, running a hand through his hair. "Starrk needs to keep a closer eye on her." Then he glances at the two of them. "Well, what do you two want?" he demands roughly.

"We want to know who she is," Karin answers, glaring at him for the harsh tone he had used.

"She's just the pain-in-the-ass kid sister of a guy who works here," the worker tells them. "We give her work or else she keeps bothering us and the customers. I'm pretty sure she enjoys it too," he adds disdainfully.

"You make a _kid_ work for you?" she asks disapprovingly, eyeing him in disgust.

He glowers at her. " Don't you go spreading bad rumors about our business, woman. She _asks_ for work, plain and simple."

Karin snorts. "Like I believe _that_," she huffs, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes.

Annoyed by her arrogance and disbelief at his words, Grimmjow grits his teeth and makes a sudden, violent notion towards her, reaching out a hand to pull her into his grasp. However, before he can get any closer, Toushiro suddenly side-steps in front of her protectively, turning a frosty glare on the startled man.

"That's as far as you get, _Grimmjow_," he spits out with venom. The air turns tense in an instant as both of their faces twist in rage. "Stay away from her. If you _hurt_ her, so help me Kami, I'll -"

"Toushiro!" Karin suddenly cuts across him. He fumbles with his next words, turning around to gaze at her in surprise. She puts her hands on her hips. "You're standing in front of me," she points out in irritation, gesturing to their feet absentmindedly. "I was _talking_ to Grimmjow."

Though she gives him a pointed look, the message is clear: _I can fight my own battles._

Flushing, he steps out of her way. "My apologies," he mumbles, and she nods in satisfaction.

Grimmjow looks between them several times in awe before snorting over at Hitsugaya. "Dude, your woman's got you _whipped_."

"She's not my woman," he corrects him, even more embarrassed at the idea.

"What's goin' on here?" someone interrupts them just then. They all jump at the arrival of a silver-haired, slit-eyed man, except for Karin, who just follows his line of sight. Though it's hard to tell, it seems the man is gazing at her. "An' who's this?" he asks, sounding curious.

Hitsugaya ignores him and turns to Karin instead. "This is Ichimaru Gin," he explains to her, and she nods. "He's a..._friend _of Matsumoto's, and he works here. That's why I know of this place."

Understanding dawns on her face.

"Don't just ignore me, Hitsugaya," Gin says with a wide smile. "I asked first."

He sighs heavily. "This is Karin," he introduces them reluctantly. "She came with me tonight."

"So _this _is the lovely Karin-chan," he exclaims, not looking at all surprised at the idea of Hitsugaya on a date. With a cheery wave, he says, "Ran-chan's told me all about ya!"

"...Like what?" he asks warily, not at all trusting of his manager and her crazy fantasies.

Gin waves an airy hand. "Oh, just this an' that. No need ta worry. I won't scare your _fiancée _away, Hitsugaya." There's a hint of a teasing sneer in his voice, and Hitsugaya growls at him.

"A lot of people like teasing you, Toushiro," Karin notes in amusement.

"Don't I know it," he groans with a sigh. "Matsumoto is to blame for a lot of them. She has a..._corrupting _influence on anyone we meet."

"Even me?" she wants to know with a smirk.

He grimaces. "_You _were _already _a tease when I met you," he answers, thinking back to the night they had met, when she'd been so blunt and taunting. It's just surprising to him that _that's _just how he likes her. She grins rather proudly.

"A tease?" Gin asks in surprise. "You mean...?" He smirks suggestively. "Matsumoto didn't mention _that_."

"Of course not," he huffs as Grimmjow roars with laughter at his flustered expression.

"This guy looks like he couldn't make a move on a _dummy_, let alone a _real _woman," he sneers. "If these two have done _anything_, then I'll eat my shoes."

"Well, they _were _getting pretty cozy in their car," yet another newcomer suddenly offers. Toushiro feels his face heat up as he catches sight of a pink-haired someone; it's the man from the ticket booth.

"How do ya know that, Syazel?" Grimmjow grunts.

"I've already seen this movie a dozen times," the man replies, pushing his glasses farther up his nose and causing them to glint. "There's really nothing to do when it's playing besides..._observe_."

"You _spy _on the customers?" Karin asks in absolute disgust, having picked up the gist of the conversation. "But most of them are _couples!_"

_'Sick bastard,' _Toushiro thinks with mirth as the man only chuckles under his breath and does nothing to defend himself. Karin looks revolted and steps away from the man. Toushiro can't help but shift just slightly to stand in front of her, not enough to be noticeable.

"Why am I not surprised that _this _is the kind of place you run, Gin?" he quips at the man, enraged by the idea of someone watching his date with Karin. Those had been _private _moments!

"Now, now. Don't blame _me_," Gin replies, still grinning despite the situation. "My employees have their own free will."

"If you promise not to tell," Syazel speaks up with a sick grin, "I can let you watch the footage. You know, so you can..._perfect _your moves for the next time."

_'Why this little...' _ It's rather interesting how hostile he's become since meeting Karin, though she's hardly had that sort of influence on him. First..._that _bastard – he can't even bring himself to think the name – and now _this _bastard. He actually has to ball his fists and breathe deeply through his nose so as not to grab him by his shirt and throw him aside like a rag doll.

Which is why it's so shocking when Karin pushes him aside, takes three quick strides at the smirking creep, swings her arm back, and _pounds _her fist against his nose. There's a _crack _as his glasses twist and hang off his ear, askew, but all they can stare at is the blood gushing from his nose.

"My dose!" Syazel yells in alarm, clutching it tightly and leaning his face down. "Du bitch!"

"Scram, _Syazel_," she snarls, waving her fist at him threateningly. "I haven't cooled off yet, and you can _bet _I'll swing harder next time around."

His eyes narrow dangerously at her through his lashes, so Toushiro immediately steps up behind her, backing her up menacingly. With an aggravated growl, the man has no choice but to swing around and stomp off, no doubt to tend to his nose.

"And keep your slimy gaze out of other people's cars next time!" she yells after him.

There's a silence after he leaves. Karin's breathing heavily, keeping her gaze on his back to ensure he does not return, and Toushiro only has eyes for her. However, Grimmjow starts laughing boorishly, a maniacal grin on his face that seems too big for his face as he thumps her on the arm.

"Ya decked him!" he rasps. "Damn amazing!"

Karin beams at him before swinging her gaze around to Toushiro.

"A punch for a punch," she informs him in a matter-of-fact tone."Now we're even for that Ayane incident,"

"I did that for _you, _though," he reminds her, bemused.

"And _I _did this for _you_," she counters. With a sly grin, she nudges him with her elbow. "_I_ could tell how much you wanted to hit him."

He huffs but can't help but smirk, surprisingly pleased that she had read his emotions so easily.

"I like ya, kid," Grimmjow pipes up, still in a seemingly good mood. "Stick around for a while, won't ya? I'll show ya around."

"Yeah?" she asks in awe, mystified by the idea of exploring a place so foreign to her. She swings around to look at Toushiro pleadingly. "Can we?"

He scratches his head. "I don't see why not. There's still time left to get you back early, so I see no harm in staying a bit longer."

Grimmjow grunts in appreciation. "Come 'round back," he offers, gesturing her over with a swing of his arm. Looking positively excited, she nods and rushes after him, and Toushiro follows them slowly with his hands tucked in his pockets, not willing to let her out of his sight just yet.

As he takes them over to the small building by the ticket booth, a completely forgotten Gin watches them go with a pout.

"Oh, well," he decides with a sigh. "I guess I'll just report all this ta Ran-chan."

Hitsugaya feels a sudden chill run up his spine, though he can't fathom why. He finally shrugs off the ominous feeling as a reaction to the change in temperature as they enter the theater's office and are hit with a gust of warm air. It's surprisingly a cozy-looking place, covered in salmon carpet and surrounded by pale white walls. There's a large desk dominating the decor, probably for any customers needing their questions answered, and doors everywhere. Grimmjow leads them through one of these doors.

"Ever wonder how the movie plays?" he asks them with a grin.

"A projector," Karin replies immediately, looking proud of herself.

"Ever _seen _one?" he challenges her next, and she scowls.

"No," she admits.

His grin widens. "Well, you're in luck." He leads them up a flight of stairs, getting higher and higher diagonally. Finally, they reach a small door at the end of the pathway, and he strides in, ushering them along. There's already someone inside, though.

"What's going on, Grimmjow?" he asks, sighing in annoyance. Hitsugaya gazes at him critically; the man seems even more stoic than him, and he thinks about informing Matsumoto about this, so she may lay off him for being so reserved all the time.

"Cool off, Ulquiorra," their guide hisses, rolling his eyes. "They're with me. I'm showin' 'em around."

"Are you the guy who plays the movie?" Karin asks in excitement, seeming impressed – he does _not _feel unjustly jealous. Ulquiorra stares at her blankly before sighing again and nodding. "Can I see?"

"The next screening is not for another hour," he informs her. Hitsugaya gets the feeling that he wants to turn back to his work now, but it's pretty obvious that he's realized Karin needs to see his lips, and so he begrudgingly puts up with it so as not to be offensive. Maybe he's not so bad, after all.

"Just give 'em a quick lesson," Grimmjow demands. "What's it gonna do?"

"I do not have permission to play the movie more than the assigned times -"

"It's a movie projector, not a nuclear bomb," he snorts back. "It won't matter if you turn it on a couple more times. What's Aizen gonna do if it's keeping customers happy?"

"Aizen is the man who owns the theater," he signs to Karin to keep her informed. His face twists into a scowl as he remembers a time when his sister had actually been dense enough to _date _the man. Thankfully, she'd come to her senses and they'd broken up after only a few dates, and she'd later found someone a little less..._eerie._ So he knows the theater pretty well, though the employees are new, as he's never met them before.

"All right," Ulquiorra finally relents after Grimmjow starts getting nasty. He glares over at Karin. "Watch closely, girl. I'll only show you once."

She wanders over immediately, gazing at the machine in curiosity. It's rather beat up, so it's obviously old and well used. What interests Karin, though, is that rather than a fully digital projector like the modern ones, it's an ancient model with two reels, where there's room for tapes of videos.

"Toushiro, come look," she invites him, waving him over. He considers it for a moment but, seeing her so happy, decides to do just that.

"Can I press the button?" she requests, and Toushiro can't help but smirk at how childish she's acting so suddenly, in awe from learning something new.

"I don't see why not," Ulquiorra states after careful consideration. "I've already cleaned it, but it needs to be set up."

"I can do it," she insists with determination. "Just tell me what to do."

Before he can, Toushiro steps forward. "I'll teach her," he offers a little icily. "An eight millimeter reel is fairly simple." The man raises an eyebrow, but steps back after a moment, obviously content with letting someone else handle her. Grimmjow raises an eyebrow as well.

"Ya know how to work this stuff?" he asks incredulously.

"I've studied it," Toushiro retorts before turning to the awaiting Karin – he rather likes how she looks so impressed by _him _this time. "Here. Take these reels and place each one on the arms sticking out here and here," he orders her. With a determined nod, she slips each one in before turning to him for more instruction. "Now, take this film and put it in this slot." He points to the location. "The lens is right under it. Good. Let it load for a moment. And you're done."

"...That's it?" she asks in surprise, and he chuckles.

"If there are no complications, then yes, that's it. Now you'll just press this button right here, and it'll turn on."

A little curious, she does just that, and immediately the credits against the black background start flickering on the screen again. Some lingerers down below jump at the sudden noise and gaze at it in confusion.

"It's blurry," she points out, turning her head to look at Toushiro and see what advice he has to offer.

"That can be fixed simply. You just need to focus it."

Not thinking clearly, he strides up to the machine to find the knob by the lens, and he sandwiches Karin in between himself and the table, his front pressed _firmly _and without any space in between her back. His head ends up on her shoulder as he peers over it, and his arms carelessly encircle her waist as he reaches for the knob to adjust the focus.

Grimmjow snorts when he notices how red she's turning, but Hitsugaya doesn't pay him any mind, not realizing the affect he's having on her.

Trying to save face, she clears her throat. "That was...really boring," she comments in a small voice, and Toushiro smirks.

"_You _wanted to know," he reminds her pointedly, and she huffs.

"You wanna do something else?" Grimmjow grunts, and Hitsugaya signs the words she'd missed for her.

"Of course!" she agrees. "What else is there?"

As it turns out, the next stop in the tour is using them for personal labor. It's not nearly as endearing when it's not _Karin _he's working for.

"You wants us to work the concession stands for you?" Hitsugaya asks incredulously, realizing the hidden scheme behind the words. "Shouldn't you have people doing that already?" he grumbles under his breath.

"We'll do it," Karin pipes up.

"What – _Karin_," he protests, whirling around to face her grin.

She shrugs. "I think it sounds like fun," she argues. "I've never worked one before. Besides, how hard could it be?"

"It's easy," Grimmjow offers, ganging up on him with her. He can see the devious smirk on his face, but he can hardly deny his date.

"_Fine_," he relents. "For a _little _while."

"Sure, sure," she agrees half-heartedly, waving an airy hand at him. "So, Grimmjow, what're we doing?"

He scowls as the man gives them a tour of the kitchen area, giving them simple instructions. It really does seem like easy work, at least. All they need to do is take orders and give the customers what they want. What they don't anticipate, however, is a mad _rush _right before the movie starts.

"Hey, could you hurry up?"

"Did you just cut in front of me!"

"Get your eyes checked, loser! I was here _first._"

"Hey, cutie. Are you new here? I don't think I've seen _you _working here before."

"Hey, stay away from _my _girlfriend!"

As he tries to explain to a fuming man that he had _not _been flirting with his less than faithful girlfriend, Karin keeps rushing back and forth in the back, trying to fulfill everyone's orders. The angry customer in his face finally lets his anger take control of him and, deciding he's not worth his time, turns on _her _instead.

"What the hell is _taking _so long?" he snarls to an oblivious Karin."Hurry up in there, girl!"

It takes but two seconds for him to slam his hand on the counter, grab the bastard by his collar, and get right back in his face.

"_Don't _talk to her that way," he hisses threateningly. The man's eyes widen, and he backs away with his hands up in defense. When Karin gives him what he'd asked for, he grabs his girlfriend and hightails it out of there. All bark and no bite.

Hitsugaya just thanks his lucky stars that Karin had not noticed the argument, or else she would have only been furious with him. After that, at least everyone else realizes they had better treat Karin like the queen she is, or else her frightening, icy companion would practically shoot daggers through their heart with his glares alone.

Karin meanwhile, is perfectly ignorant and content with her job. She'd never had a chance to work like this before. Aside from her family's clinic, but that doesn't count in her mind, since her father always coddles her there. After she'd lost her hearing, her brother had become too protective to allow her to hold a job with strangers (though _Yuzu _got to), and she'd sort of given up on life too much to bother defying him. Now, though, she finds she likes the hard work.

Well, until something goes wrong, of course.

The theater keeps a rusty drinks machine in the back counter. One simply has to place a plastic cup underneath a specific nozzle, press the button and, once the cup is filled, press the button again to turn it off. She does that repeatedly throughout the night with no mistakes, but then a woman orders soda.

Karin happily fills up her cup, but once she tries to turn it off, it doesn't stop.

"What?" Bemused, she presses again. Nothing happens. The drink keeps flowing to the drain underneath, and she can see that it's starting to fill up fast. In a panic now, she starts pushing the button repeatedly, almost slamming a fist against it in desperation. Nothing.

"Uh, Toushiro?" she calls out in a panic. Not knowing what to do, she starts banging a hand against the machine from the sides and the top, hoping it'll stop miraculously. The drink suddenly starts to overflow. "Oh, Kami!"

In a flurried haste, she starts grabbing any of the paper cups nearby, shoving them under the machine. They're small, though, and start filling up in only seconds, and she starts running out of space to set the filled cups aside as she keeps thrusting new ones under the nozzle.

"Toushiro!" she screeches again. This time, he finally realizes she's calling him, and turns away from an irritated customer.

"Wha – _wow_!"

The soda starts overflowing again, and there are no more cups nearby. Looking around in a panic, she finally just desperately shoves her hands under the nozzle, hoping to stem the flow. Soda flies _everywhere_, and she instinctively pulls her hands away to cover her face.

He grabs her by the arm and roughly pulls her behind him, thrusting the pitcher he had grabbed on his way over under the machine. They finally have a moment to catch their breath, and when Karin looks down at herself, they find that the front of her clothes is completely sopping wet from the drink, sticking to her skin in an attractive way.

"Did it stop?" she asks weakly, peeking up at him.

"No. I just bought us some time. Go find someone who knows how to work this thing," he orders her, and she nods and runs off to do as told.

Well, she _tries _to, except there's too much soda on the ground. She cries out as she almost slips, and he lunges forward to grab her, pulling her shoulders and holding her tightly to his chest. In the process, his elbow knocks over the pitcher, and not only does the drink start spraying everywhere _again_, the jug clatters to the ground, spilling everything inside of it on the floor.

"Damn it," he hisses in frustration. The front of his clothes is wet now too, and now both of their shoes are filled with soda.

"Toushiro, what do we _do_?" Karin asks in desperation.

"Stay calm. We just need to get someone -"

"What the _hell _is going _on _here?"

They both whip their heads around, and it's such a _relief _to find a fuming little girl with green hair glaring at them, her hands om her hips.

"You're the girl who was picking up the trash before," Karin recalls.

"No time for introductions!" she snaps. "What's going on here?"

"The drink machine started overflowing," Hitsugaya explains calmly.

"I can see that," she growls back. Shoving them aside, she strides over to it, gingerly avoiding sloshing the soda on the floor onto her legs. They watch as she stands on the tips of her toes and reaches behind the machine. When the drink finally stops pouring out, she has the plug in her hand. They all sigh with relief.

"Thank goodness," he breathes out, slowly pulling himself away from Karin to look her up and down and make sure she's okay, though his hands stay on her shoulders.

"I don't know what happened," Karin tries to explain to the girl, but she holds up a hand to stop her.

"Not your fault," she grumbles, glaring at the machine. "This piece of crap's old, and that nozzle's been broken for a while, though we never bothered replacing it."

She carefully sets the plug on top of the machine, away from any place drenched in soda. Then, she stalks over to the supply closet in the corner and starts digging through it. Next second, she's thrusting a mop into Karin's hand.

"I don't care who, or _what_, caused the mess. _You two _flooded the area, so you gotta clean it," she commands them. She points at Toushiro. "_You_. There's some paper towels in the closet. Get to cleaning the counters."

His eyebrows twitch menacingly at the impudent brat, but he catches Karin's eye, and she shakes her head warningly. She's always had a strong sense of duty, so she obviously feels it's her responsibility to mop up. He sighs but does grab the towels. But when he catches a glimpse of Karin again, it looks like she's trying really hard to suppress a bout of laughter.

"Hey!" the impatient customer suddenly yells out to them. "Are we getting our drinks or not?"

"Coming!" the girl calls out with fake sweetness, and skips over. "I'm sorry, ma'am," he hears her sucking up to him. Karin sends him a bemused glance when he rolls his eyes, but he only smirks and doesn't bother clarifying.

And that's how they end up cleaning up soda for the next hour. The drink had spread over the _entire _area, and everything it had touched had become sticky, meaning it needed cleaning. They probably don't need to be so thorough, but _both _of them have always been diligent workers. It's while they're scrubbing the sticky liquid off of the bottom of the cabinets that he realizes his own clothes are rather clingy. And if _his _are, then Karin's _definitely _are. So he thoughtfully wets a paper towel and offers it to her.

"For your clothes," he explains when she shoots him a confused glance.

"Thanks," she replies, accepting the offer gratefully. Apparently, she hadn't thought of it herself.

Dropping the mop, she grabs the wet rag and starts washing herself off as best as she can with it. Things are fine when she's rubbing at her cheeks and forehead, but then she moves down to her neck, and he watches in awe as she slowly peels away her sticky hair and flicks it over her shoulder, leaning her head back and rubbing the exposed skin thoroughly. She's being gentle with herself, and he watches as she drops her head and carefully starts to clean off the back of her neck next. He doesn't realize he's staring, and it's only when she dips the rag under her shirt that he finally has the sense to look away in embarrassment.

"Pervert," he hears someone sneer, and he catches sight of a smirk and green hair before the girl skips away, leaving him flushed.

"...Am not," he mumbles to himself, almost feeling like he's back with his sister at the age of eight.

Needless to say, after everything they've caused, the staff doesn't trust them with much else after that. They're left at the concession stand, cleaning up and _maybe _helping the occasional customer who comes over while the movie's playing. But Karin still wants to stay, content with helping even this much, so he shrugs and plays along.

After all, all that matters is that they're together, on a date. Who cares about the small disasters when the bigger picture is so much sweeter? And their bigger picture is one of him and Karin side by side, laughing over a movie neither can understand and talking for hours on end, getting closer with each passing minute.

Which is why, even though they end up watching the same movie three more times that night, because they are together, each time seems just as special as the last.

**.. ღ ..**

He drops her off late in the night.

"Will you be all right for your classes?" he asks, worried as he pulls up in an empty parking space right in front of the girl's dorms. They'd had to cover the seats in plastic garbage bags Gin had presented them with so they wouldn't ruin Matsumoto's car with their sticky clothes.

"Oh, I'll be fine," she assures him. "This is nowhere near pulling an all-nighter. I'll get through it somehow."

He nods seriously. " So can I assume you had a good time on our date?" he asks hopefully.

Her face splits into a jubilant grin. "Of course!" she exclaims. "Tonight was just..._awesome_."

"I'm glad," he replies softly, getting out of the car and walking around to her side. Before she can protest, he pulls open her door for her, holding out his hand. She pouts a little before actually taking his offered hand, letting him help her out of the car. He doesn't let go, though, and the two happily walk up to her dorm with their hands tied together. After spending so much time together throughout the night, it feels significantly_ less_ awkward than the first time; they're comfortable.

"Though I get the feeling they won't be wanting us back for a while," she jokes as they hurry up the steps.

"They won't want _you_," he shoots back. "_I _didn't flood the kitchen."

She hits his arm, laughing at his poor joke. But when they get back to her room, they find themselves pausing at the door and dropping their hands, unsure of how to end their exchange. It's been a special night, a lot different than onces they're used to. Do they kiss?

"Do you wanna come inside and clean up?" she offers hurriedly, jabbing a thumb behind her, at the door.

He blushes at the idea of using her bathroom, her _towel. _Though it's not the same as taking an actual shower, it's still too intimate for him.

"No, thank you," he declines. "My apartment isn't far, anyway. I'll make it."

"...Okay." She raises a stiff arm. "Well, good night."

He almost lets her leave until a thought hits him, and he pulls her back.

"Did you forget our deal?" he reminds her smugly.

"Oh, yeah," she remembers sheepishly, scratching her head. "Well, what do you wanna know?"

"That's up for you to decide," he replies, shrugging. "I've done my part."

She rolls her eyes, and he feels his lips twitch up.

"I don't know..." she says slowly, thoughtfully. "Like I said, I'm not that interesting. What could you even want to know...?" She ponders it for a while, and then her eyes widen. She looks up at him shyly. "Didn't you want to know how many guys I've dated?" she remembers quietly.

His heart jolts. He'd forgotten about that question. But he can't deny he wants to know the answer. His own dating history is not very extensive, as he's never had the time or interest in such things until he met her. What about her?"

He clears his throat. "If you want to tell me," he says weakly, secretly wishing she does.

"Well, you don't need to worry," she assures him. "It's not that many. Just...two."

Two. Oh. So there's been two guys she's liked extra specially before him. Two boys who've held her interest, her time, her attention, her _hand_. Two boys who've beaten him to her. Two boys who could have possibly _kissed _her.

"Oh."

That's all he can manage. He doesn't want his disappointment to show through, though it's hitching his throat. It's _her _life.

But he gets the feeling that it's still obvious anyway, because she panics when she looks into his eyes directly.

"Of course, I said there's nothing to worry about," she continues quickly, waving her hands in front of her chest nervously. "They were anything serious. Not like _you_."

"Like me?" he deadpans, suddenly interested.

She turns red, but nods anyway. He raises his eyebrows hopefully, urging her to continue. He has the feeling he'll like where this is going.

"The truth is..." she begins, and then licks her lips.

"Yes?"

"...You're the only boy – _man_ – I've ever gone on a second date with," she admits quietly, a flush creeping up her cheeks as she looks down at the ground. "You're my one and only."

He can see the embarrassed mortification in her eyes, but finds himself unable to say anything as he feels _exactly _the same. That only makes her flush more. She looks like a fish out of water as she looks left and right for an escape route from the situation. When she finds none, she looks up at him helplessly for a moment. Then, with a lick of her lips, she screws her eyes shut, suddenly places her hands on his shoulders to stand on the tips of her toes, and kisses his cheek softly. And then she runs inside the apartment, slamming the door shut behind her, right in his face.

"Good night!" he hears her call out from inside, though her voice is a little higher pitched.

"...Good night," he mumbles back to no one in particular. After resting his hand flat on the door for a silent moment, he stumbles through the hall and down the stairs.

The chilly night wind whips against him, though he pays it no mind. Instead, he runs a hand through his hair, exhaling deeply to calm himself and his racing heart. Even so, a slow smirk tugs at his lips, and though he tries to stop it in its tracks, it seems adamant on staying there. It makes him giddy to know that he and Karin are something a little special – certainly they have a relationship more valuable than he's ever had. His cheek tingles at the thought of that, and he cups it in almost awe.

She'd kissed him. And not just a thank you kiss like the last time her lips had brushed his cheek. This time, she'd acted on her own will; it had been a romantic kiss. He licks his lips, moistening them steadily as he breathes out deeply again. It had been a little too short for his liking, but sweet enough to make up for that. Next time, he decides with determination, it will be _his _lips on _her _skin. Until then, he has no regrets. Well, except for one. For in that moment when she'd acted so quickly and shut him out even faster, he'd missed his chance to tell her just one important fact.

She is his one and only, too.

* * *

><p><strong>That soda machine scene was courtesy of a friend of mine. It actually happened to her at her work ^^ Though <em>she <em>flooded the kitchen with apple juice. I felt bad, but I couldn't _not _laugh :P**

**And it seems we should all be careful at movie theaters, huh? You never know when guys like Syazel are peeking at you...Scary thought. ****I didn't intend for the Espada to be in here. But since the movie had Spanish subtitles, I couldn't resist ;) Plus, I was having trouble thinking of what should happen after the movie, and meeting them seemed like fun :)**

**Also, while I have your attention (or at least I _think_ I do. I get the feeling not many people read Author's Notes...), does anyone know what's been wrong with the site lately? It keeps erasing the space between italicized words. I had to erase all the space between my paragraphs so it was just one big block of writing, and copy and paste the words on here. Otherwise, I would have had to read through _everything_ to find all the mistakes and would have possibly missed a lot...**


	8. Chapter 8

**So, the chapter we've all been waiting for! (Well, one of them).**

**So, Raye of Sunshine, I took your advice and made more of the conversations in sign language. Like I said, making her misinterpret too many things would have just made the story more distracting, but I hope this makes Karin better now. I thought about making the sign language _italicized,_ but that would have taken so much work and probably would hurt people's eyes, so even if it doesn't _say _he's signing, assume he is, okay? :D**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any of its characters.**

* * *

><p>Their next date is at another restaurant. This time, it's a rowdy place for families, and they sit in a corner booth, away from the noise and in their own private little world. Their waitress is a bubbly high school student who's absolutely <em>enchanted <em>by the sight of them together.

"A _date?_" she squeals, wanting some gossip on the two of them.

"...Yes," he admits, a little irritated because he realizes how Karin's biting her lip as she notices some of the other customers gazing over at them curiously. Their server takes one look at the flushes on their cheeks before it clicks.

"A _new couple, _too!" she practically shrieks out for the world to hear as a delighted blush covers her cheeks. "That's _so cute_."

Finally, Toushiro has had enough, and he glares at her. "Could we please just get our food?" he asks rather harshly.

She nods, skipping off to to as told. However, all throughout the night, they can feel her peeking at them every once in a while from the corner of her eyes. It's uncomfortable at first, but once it gets rather old and they learn to ignore it, they have a wonderful time together. In their own private world, they sign to one another, keeping their exchange to themselves alone. He's only been learning for about a year, however, and takes so long because he has to sign out each letter when he doesn't know the word, so she teaches him as he gladly learns, enjoying his fumbles and screwed up sentences. He's sure it's unlike any date anyone's ever had before, yet it's so _perfect._

In exchange, he learns that she's always had a love for traveling.

"I've never gone outside of Karakura before!" she complains. "There's never been a need to. But I need some adventure in my life, you know?"

Though he's traveled all over for recitals and can't really understand her desire, he still nods along to encourage her to continue, fascinated by her rant and the slightest hint of a pout on her lips.

When he drops her off at her dorm, they pause at her door again. As she tells him goodbye, he suddenly remembers his previous resolution; he'd promised himself that he would be the one to kiss _her _this time. However, as he gazes down at her beautiful face and looks straight into her large eyes, he finds himself overcome with embarrassment. He's never made moves on a girl before.

In the end, he settles for gently taking her hand into his and brushing his lips against the back. She splutters in protest, and he smirks up at her, trying to save face.

"Good night, Karin," he says smoothly, though he feels anything _but._

…

The next day, he'd fallen asleep on his balcony reading a book in the late afternoon, the heat having made him drowsy, when his cellphone suddenly rings. Jerking out of his stupor, he stumbles across the living room, rubbing his eyes to wake himself up as he flips it open and reads the text message.

"I don't get it!" someone's sent him in frustration on the other end, typed in all capital letters. He stands there in confusion until his brain finally starts to start working again.

"K-Karin?" he types back.

"Toushiro," she instantly replies. "Help me, _please._"

"What's wrong?" he asks, instantly worried. "Are you all right?"

"You're super smart, right?" she retorts instead. "I'm doing homework from my class this morning, and _I don't understand a thing_." There's a sad, crying emoticon typed in afterwards, and that's how he knows the situation is serious, because Karin is _not _the type to use emoticons; after months of texting with her, he knows that much. "_Please _help me."

He sighs, relieved that she's not in any immediate danger. "I'm on my way."

Before he leaves, however, he feels inclined to slip on a nice, pressed shirt and loose tie, not willing to let her see him in his current careless attire. It's partially because he still remembers the pajamas embarrassment from last time, and partially because he wants to look good for her.

_'Kami, I feel like a teenage girl,' _he muses to himself as he takes a train out to her university. When he arrives, though, he's thankful for his decision, because when she answers the door, he observes that she looks ravishing in neat, black jeans and a nice blouse. He knows she'll dress up when it counts, and he also knows that education is important to her, hence the effort. At least he won't stick out now.

"What are you having trouble with?" he asks immediately, and she beams at him, leading him to the living room, where her books are sprawled all across the coffee table. They sit side by side and cross-legged, and he loosens his tie as they get to work. She doesn't have classes for the rest of the day, so he spends the time tutoring her. She's practically ready to tear her hair out at first, but he's patient – only ever with her, though.

While they're working, he learns that, though she _adores _her topic of study, she absolutely _abhors _studying and always has. According to her speculation, it probably comes from her father's leniency about school during her childhood. He's never cared much for hardcore cramming like other parents, so she's grown up with no frenzied academic environment.

But she's turned out all right anyway, he notes, because she learns from him fast, and they finish quicker then he had thought they would. After a full evening of studying, she finally sighs in relief, settling back with ease now that she has an understanding of the subject.

"Thank you so much," she signs with a grimace. "I'm sure this isn't how you wanted your evening to end up, but -"

"It was fun," he cuts across her, smirking softly. "Probably because I was with you."

And to ease her worries, he gently takes her hand in his and kisses the back of her palm, just like the previous night. She flushes and wrenches her hand away, punching him lightly. He just smirks wider.

It's only when he leaves that he realizes this had been a date of sorts.

…

Each evening they get together, and soon the weekend arrives. As he's dropping her off at her dorms like he's gotten accustomed to doing, she tells him that she's visiting home the next morning.

"I haven't gone back since the last time," she explains with her hands, standing outside her door.

"When will I see you next?" he asks, a little disappointed that he won't be seeing her. He's gotten used to giving her his evenings.

She bites her lip, before suggesting, "How about you come with me?"

"Will that be all right? It's your time with your family."

"Oh, sure," she replies, beaming. "They're always excited to have more people around. Well, Otou-san and Yuzu are. And sometimes Rukia, too."

So he kisses her hand and leaves with new knowledge about her and a promise to be there when she arrives at her family home the next day. Her brother lets him into the house with a scowl on his face when he arrives. He just returns it, flopping down on the couch and turning down Yuzu's frequent offers of refreshments.

"I ate before I came," he's insisting to her when they hear an extremely loud engine rev right outside. It's a sound he's heard only once, but he recognizes it almost instantly, and his heart leaps out of his chest.

"Karin-chan's here!" Yuzu announces what he already knows. "I just heard her bike outside." There's a tone of slight disapproval in her words, and he smirks as he realizes that the twin is not particularly fond of Karin's motorcycle.

However, when he rushes to the window and peeks out of the curtain, he catches sight of Karin straddling the bike's seat and taking off her helmet. As the sun shines down on her, she closes her eyes and flips her hair to her back. Suddenly, she's waving her head back and forth to let her strands settle, and his mouth dries up in an instant as he watches her intently without so much as even a _blink_. He kind of likes it, though he's never found a woman..._sexy_ before.

"Come outside, Hitsugaya-san," Yuzu calls out to him, and she waves him over by the doorway before taking her own advice.

He lingers by the front entrance, not wanting to intrude for now. However, as Karin kicks away her father and allows her sister to strangle her in a hug, she catches sight of him over Yuzu's shoulder and grins.

"You came!" she calls out excitedly, finally swinging her leg off her bike and settling her helmet against the handlebars. He clears his throat and steps out farther, letting her see him properly.

"I said I would," he signs, looking at her pointedly. Ichigo glares at him, obviously annoyed by their familiar interaction, but Rukia pats his arm and clucks her tongue disapprovingly.

"Bastard thinks he's so smooth," he hears the man complaining to his girlfriend in a grumble as she leads him inside. "Like Karin would go for that."

He grimaces, a little put off by how much animosity the ginger-haired man is _still_ showing him. But Karin loops an arm through one of his just then, and all is forgotten as he allows her to lead him inside. (Though he can't help but blush as he realizes they're in the same position as the _couple_ in front of them).

And so they spend the day with her family. Aside from Ichigo, everyone is instantly accepting of him. A fact which, according to Rukia, is trademark of the Kurosaki family.

"They're not stupid enough to trust everyone right off the bat," she tells him in a low voice, "but they're willing to give everyone a chance."

That's how he ends up sandwiched between Yuzu and Isshin on the small couch that's hardly big enough for three people. He's suspicious that they're almost _trying _to make him uncomfortable, especially since they giggle every time he shoots longing looks at Karin, who's seated in the only open chair all the way across the room.

Apparently, ever since Ichigo first went off to college, the noisy family had made it a tradition to get together during the week's end and talk about how their week had gone. According to Karin, it's because of her father's irritating need to forcibly be a part of his children's lives, through any means necessary.

"Daddy just cares!" Isshin bawls as she glares at him. "He wants to know his babies are happy!"

"All right. That's enough, old man," Ichigo growls. "If it'll shut you up, I'll go first now."

And so, translating along for Karin's sake, he regales them with his tales of college, and how he and his best friend had gotten kicked out of class _again_ because their new teacher refuses to believe their red and orange hair is natural, and how he's _sick_ of his father sending him sickly sweet and pouty email messages about how much he misses his baby boy and bashing his head in – Isshin looks away pointedly. Next, Yuzu remembers the hectic day at the bakery when over a dozen orders for cake had arrived on the same day. She'd been close to quitting when a customer had walked in, claiming he'd driven all this way to especially tell her how much he had enjoyed her baked goods he had bought the previous week. Karin reluctantly takes her turn next, and even Rukia, who's long since been a part of the tradition, recalls brief snippets of her week for them.

And then they all turn to him.

It takes him by surprise. He hadn't expected to be readily made a part of their family time, but they all give him his full attention. He feels his ears burn at that.

"There's not much to say," he mumbles. The family immediately begins to protest loudly, trying to get him to talk. "It's true," he insists.

Karin rolls her eyes exaggeratedly. "Oh, please," she pipes up. "You just don't like sharing. If you're going to be such a pansy about it, _I'll_ tell them."

He had, of course, told her everything, having spent much of his week _with_ her. And so she begins a day-by-day, detailed recount of his week, from everything to the moment he wakes up to the time he picks her up in the evening (because they _had_ gone out every day, after all). In the corner, Ichigo grows redder and redder, irritated by how much his sister knows about him and how much time they've apparently been spending together.

As she finishes up, the two women suddenly start giggling and pull her aside, demanding to know _everything _about their dates. She flusters and flat-out refuses, and they pout and drag her away, convinced it's her brother that's the problem. He's left to the awkward mercy of her father and brother.

"Good to see you two are having a nice time together," Isshin speaks up, a twinkle in his eyes. He throws his arms around the young man, exclaiming boisterously, "Why, I remember when _I _was a young lad, meeting my wife for the first time. It was a crisp autumn's day, and I'd just grown my beard to its full potential..."

When Karin meets up with him an hour later, he looks absolutely exhausted.

"Sorry about him," she whispers, clapping her hands together in apology. "I shouldn't have left you two alone."

"He sure is..._open_," he grumbles, sounding pained.

She grimaces. She's already heard the story at least five times, but she can still remember how painful the first time was. So, to appease him, she stands on her toes and lightly brushes her lips against his jaw, right on the edge of his chin. And all is forgiven.

As he leaves later that night, he halts by the door and reaches for her hand. By now, it's become a sort of ritual between them, and so she easily surrenders it to him, allowing him to brush his lips on her skin.

"When will I see you next?" she asks softly.

He grins and invites her to his apartment the next day. It seems like a big step, which is why he has never asked her before now. Granted, she _had_ come over once, but this will be the first time it will be for an actual date, just the two of them alone. For this reason, he's waited until many dates later.

She easily agrees, not at all perturbed about spending the day in his home. It's a definite step forward for them, and as his shoes crunch over the gravel when he walks over to his car, hands tucked in his pockets, he's suddenly overcome with an overwhelming urge to whistle a happy tune.

…

Before they know it, they've gone out every day for the past week. But it's still not enough for him.

**.. ღ ..**

Matsumoto thinks it's absolutely _adorable._

One day, she barges into his home like she always does and drags him out by the arm. He doesn't get any chances to even _think _of protesting as she drags him from shop to shop, using him as muscle to carry her shopping bags as she buys more and more useless things. He decides not to protest after the first few shops. She looks happy, and at least she's not using _his _credit card, which she'd done so many times in the past.

After a whole morning of extreme sales, he takes her out to lunch at a café she wants to try. As he sips his coffee, she stuffs her face with countless cream cakes and tarts. As she's shoving a slice into her mouth, she suddenly inquires about Karin.

"So...how's it going?" she asks slyly, grinning as she waves a spoon at him. "Are you guys all lovey-dovey every day?" She giggles at the idea.

He glares at her. "We're fine," he replies through gritted teeth, trying to sound civil.

"Who would have thought our little Shiro-chan could ever grow up _not _being gay?" she speculates, sighing dreamily. "I thought for sure you swung the other way when all those cute fans only gave you headaches. But it seems like I don't need to worry anymore. I might just get to plan your wedding after all!"

There is _no freaking way _he is ever going to allow her to design his wedding, but he conveniently forgets to tell her that, content with letting her fantasize for now. No need to ruin a perfectly fine day.

"I'm so happy you found someone, though," she continues, smiling at him softly and sincerely. "It's good to know you have someone special you can go to when you're alone."

"M-Matsumoto," he mumbles, looking away because he doesn't know how he should look.

"Though you can always come to me, too," she reminds him pointedly, bobbing her head. "But Karin-chan is perfect for..._special _comfort." She winks suggestively, and he glares over at her.

"Does your mind ever _not _turn in that direction?" he demands in irritation.

"This time it's justified!" she argues with a pout. "That's the kind of stuff you _do _with your girlfriend."

"She's _not _my _girlfriend_," he suddenly negates her, cursing himself for sounding like a shy middle-schooler.

She rolls her eyes. "Do you two go on dates?" she quips.

"Well, yes," he answers truthfully.

"Have you met her family?"

"You know I have."

"Held hands?"

His eyebrows furrow. "Yes."

"Ever held her in your arms?" She ends this question with a dreamy sigh, putting her chin in her hand and leaning forward.

He thinks back to the dance at the wedding in embarrassment and reluctantly admits, "...Yes."

She sends him a dry look, as if to say, "_And you're _still _denying it?"_

As one last logical victory, she finally asks, triumphantly, "And you've kissed her too, right?"

There's a pause, and Toushiro freezes. Matsumoto inclines her head to the side, gazing at him curiously for his strange reaction.

"Toushiro?" she calls out to him softly. "You've_ kissed_ her before, _right?_"

He clears his throat, and when she catches sight of his face, she realizes it's quite flushed.

"Actually, no," he admits awkwardly. "We haven't."

"_What!_" his manager squawks, almost jumping out of her seat.

"_Matsumoto_, settle down," he shushes her, looking around at the other customers in mortification. She obviously ignores his words, as always.

"You're _kidding _me!" she yells, looking absolutely astounded. "You've gone on practically a _dozen dates, _and you haven't even kissed _once?_"

"Matsumoto," he hisses again, feeling his eye twitch as he checks to make sure no one had heard. "Just quiet down, would you?"

"But, _Toushiro_..." she whines, pouting. "This is your youth! You're supposed to be experiencing all the naughty things that come with dating a woman. Put the moves on her already, you big scaredy cat!"

He can feel his cheeks flare up in embarrassment. "Just stay out of this," he mumbles. "I'll make a move when I want to."

She gapes at him. "You mean you don't _want _to?" she demands. "Why not? Karin-chan's a great girl."

He sighs. "All right, all right. Let me rephrase that. I'll make a move when the moment's right."

She smirks at him mischievously. "_Oh_... So you _do _want to." She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively. "Has someone been having naughty thoughts about our dear Karin-chan?"

"_Matsumoto_," he growls angrily, wondering how pink his face is as he glares at her. "Just...shut up, okay?" He suddenly just sounds exhausted.

She giggles. "Okay, okay." But she can't resist one last tease, so she continues forlornly, "I _won't _talk anymore about how you have so many explicits dreams about Karin-chan in skimpy clothing -"

"_What!"_

As it turns out, the _worst _possible person who could have _ever _overheard their conversation _had _overheard their conversation. Hitsugaya freezes in his seat with wide eyes before, very slowly, craning his neck up. He comes face-to-face with a raging Kurosaki Ichigo standing outside their booth, his eyes blazing and his teeth bared as he cracks his knuckles menacingly. They hadn't seen him in the shop, but _he _had obviously seen _them_, and apparently heard their entire conversation, too.

"What the _hell _kind of dreams have you been having about my _kid sister,_ Hitsugaya?" he rages, looking like he's ready to attack the man.

Though he knows he should have been more concerned with much bigger life matters, he can't help but point out, "She's not a kid anymore."

Ichigo snarls and shoots out his hand, grabbing Hitsugaya by the front of his pressed dress shirt and shoving his face into his.

"That doesn't _damn well _make it okay for you to be _deflowering _her innocence, _kid_," he spits out. "_Hell _will freeze over before I ever let you lay a _finger _on her. Keep your hormones to yourself, _got it?_"

They hear a sigh from behind him and, craning their necks, they spot a weary-looking Rukia shaking her head solemnly, a hand over her forehead as if she has a headache. When she catches sight of their hopeful glances, she thankfully decides to intervene.

"Okay, that's enough," she states firmly, grabbing Ichigo by the ear and pulling him back, ignoring his yelp of protest as he has no choice but to let go of his captive. "He's absolutely right, Ichigo. She's not a kid anymore."

Ichigo splutters in protest, gesturing wildly at the pianist. "That doesn't mean he can just -"

"_Just shut up, idiot_," his girlfriend growls, effectively cutting him off. "You're making a huge commotion." Suddenly, her forehead crinkles in a ferocious glare. "Besides, don't you know how rude it is to listen in on someone's private conversation? Don't just go barging in there, idiot."

"I will when they're talking about _my _Karin," he argues hotly, crossing his arms and throwing Hitsugaya a glower.

Before Rukia can say a word, Hitsugaya finally slams his hands on the table, getting up forcefully. He's had enough of listening to this. Ichigo raises his eyebrow at him in a taunt, but his face is deadly calm except for the fire blazing in his eyes. Slowly, he steps forward until he's toe-to-toe with the taller man and, though he has to look up, it doesn't detract from his intimidating aura.

"Get your facts straight, Kurosaki," he hisses, his jaw set. "She's _my _Karin now."

...

When they reach his apartment, Matsumoto is still roaring with laughter. Even he has to admit that it had been a humorous situation.

The dumbstruck expression on Kurosaki's face had been priceless, and he had smirked before sitting down again calmly, as if nothing had even happened between them. Ichigo's jaw had been hanging wide open as he had stared at the man, speechless. There had been a beat of silence when no one had been sure what to say, and then Matsumoto and Rukia had been _sick _with laughter.

"You tell him, Toushiro!" Matsumoto had wheezed, clutching her stomach.

After calming down as much as possible, Rukia had taken her astounded boyfriend by the arm, pulling him away.

"Come on, Ichigo. Let's go finish our date. Can't you see you don't need to worry about him?"

"B-But, he..."

"Yes, yes."

He'd allowed her to lead him away, ignoring his nonsensical mumbling.

"That was _brilliant_," Matsumoto exclaims, clapping him on the back. "I didn't know you had it on you, but..."

"It wasn't _that _great," he mutters, embarrassed by the attention. They'd gained attention back at the café too, and it had been with great mortification that he'd walked out without looking back. It hadn't helped that some people who'd heard the argument had started whooping and cheering at him.

"You set him straight, dude!"

"That was _so romantic._"

"This Karin's a lucky gal!"

And Matsumoto had felt the need to turn her head and pump her fist in victory along with them.

"Oh, but it _was_," she insists now. "Wait until Karin-chan hears about this."

He rounds on her. "You will not say _a word _about this to her, understand?" he orders threateningly. "This was between me and Ichigo."

"But it was about her," the orange top argues.

"That doesn't matter," he growls. He knows Karin will not appreciate a fight over her, and he doesn't think anyone needs to mention it. "This isn't _your _business, anyway."

She pouts but nods. "All right," she relents with a sigh.

**.. ღ ..**

There's a booming knock on his door past midnight that night. He groggily sits up in bed, shuffling through his apartment with a groan. Who could that possibly be? This time, he knows it's not Matsumoto, because she stays at the bars until they all close at two-thirty.

When he unlocks his door and swings it open, _Karin_ is standing on the other side, dressed in all black and smiling broadly.

"Hey, Toushiro," she greets him casually, striding in and latching onto his arm to pull him along.

He blinks in a confused daze. "Karin?" His head clears a bit as she shuts the door, looking back at him slyly. Ferociously, he signs, "Do you have any idea what _time_ it is?"

"Of course," she replies cheerfully. "Which is why I'm here." With a critical eye, she looks his loose shirt and shorts up and down. "Well, that won't do at all," she finally declares. Grabbing his shoulders from behind, she steers him to his bedroom forcefully. "Get dressed, would you? And wear all black!" Before he can protest, she shuts the door in his face.

What in the _world?_ As he lazily digs through his closet for any black clothing – because of course he's going to do as she asks, no matter how bizarre the request – he can't think of even _one_ explanation as to what she could possibly be planning. Unless they're going to rob someone, though he doubts it.

"Finished?" she asks once he sleepily wanders out, standing up from the couch she had been waiting on. She eyes him in approval. "Great. Now, put on some comfortable shoes too."

As he does so, she ties her hair up into a secure bun at the top of her head. Once he's finished, she grabs his wrist and drags him out of the apartment, barely giving him time to lock it in her anticipation. She leads him down the stairs with a hand in his. He uses the connection to pull her back, and she looks at him questioningly.

"Karin," he finally has a chance to ask, "where are we going?"

"I'm taking you on a date!" she announces grandly. When he only sends her a blank stare, she shakes her head. "I heard that some big hot-shot producer from Ayane Records is in town this week," she finally informs him in a hush. "They're recording something in a small studio tomorrow morning."

"And what does this have to do with us?" he asks suspiciously, getting a bad feeling.

He has a sneaking suspicion she's purposely _pretending_ she hadn't seen his lips move this time, but he reluctantly allows himself to be dragged along anyway. When they step out to the parking lot in the warm night's breeze, he spots her bike parked in one of the lots, the metal glistening in the moonlight and two helmets hanging from the handlebars.

There is a basket of eggs sitting on the seat.

"What are these for?" he signs, perplexed by the situation.

She shrugs, not willing to divulge anything. Instead, she hangs the basket off a handlebar and pats the seat.

"Get on," she tells him, swinging her own leg over and pulling her helmet on. She hands him the second one, and he slowly puts it on and clips it shut under his chin. With narrowed, distrusting eyes, he settles in behind her, slipping his arms around her waist – surprisingly, without a blush. He takes safety very seriously, especially because his grandmother had never approved of motorcycles.

"Hang on," Karin cries excitedly, revving the engine once loudly before kicking up the brake pedal and booking it out of the parking lot. He tightens his hold on her as the wind whips against his face and through his helmet. It feels...nice.

It takes a long time for them to reach their destination. He takes note of where they are and realizes they're heading towards the downtown area. Of course, an Ayane studio is more likely to be in such a central location. Karin seems to know where they're going, however, as her driving remains smooth. He marvels at her previous planning – he's always admired prepared women.

"It's coming up on the right!" she cries out over the rushing wind some time later. With a determined gleam in her eyes, she speeds up and sharply turns into a large, deserted lot. She parks next to the exit before kicking down the pedal and hopping off.

"We might need to make a quick getaway," he hears her murmur to herself, and a bad feeling churns his stomach. However, she simply takes off her helmet and grabs the eggs.

"So, this is it," she tells him, gesturing to the large building. But as she takes a good look herself, her eyes pop out. "_Wow._ _This_ is how big a_ small_ Ayane studio is?" she marvels, but he's used to such big accommodations after such a successful career, so he only shrugs. Instead, he turns her attention back to the basket.

"So, what are they for?" he asks again.

She blinks down at them first before looking back up at him. Catching sight of his perplexed expression, she smirks. In fact, her lips curl up in the most sly way he can imagine, her eyebrows arching suggestively and her eyes twinkling in a mischievous way.

It hits him so suddenly that he feels dense for not realizing it sooner.

"No!" he exclaims, shaking his head as he jumps back and wags his finger at her. "No no, _no_!"

"But -"

"Karin, _no_," he cuts across her with gritted teeth. Running his hand through his hair, he looks around helplessly. "We shouldn't have come here. We could get in trouble for trespassing."

She's ignoring his little panic attack. Instead, she grabs his wrist and pull him along with her, towards the colossal building. When they're a reasonable distance away, she drops his hand and sets the basket of eggs on the ground beside her. His eyes widen when she smirks and snatches one in her hand, giving it a kiss for luck.

"Wait, Karin -"

"Here goes!" she yells out, and with all the strength she can muster, she swings back her arm and pellets the egg at the studio. It shoots through the air and slams against the building, cracking in two and splattering the wall with a _splat._

Breathing deeply in exhilaration, she swings towards him with a radiant grin on her face.

"That was fun," she breathes, and a laugh rips through her lips. "I mean, _man_, that was _fun_." She pumps her fists in excitement. "That'll teach these guys what jerks like them deserve."

"I hardly think eggs will send the proper message," he grumbles to himself.

"Okay, now, your turn!" she cries enthusiastically. Grabbing an egg, she slips it into his hand. He wrenches his wrist out of her grip, scowling.

"Like I said – no," he replies. "I would never do something like this."

She rolls her eyes exaggeratedly. "I guess I'll have to do _this_ for you, too."

"What do you me -"

Before he can protest, she forcibly grabs his hand in her own, pulls his arm back, and swings it for him. In his shock, he lets go of his hold on the egg, and it goes flying through the air, landing on the building with another loud _splat_.

There's dead silence, and then he slowly turns towards her.

"_Karin_..." She looks at him expectantly, hopeful but worried. However, his eyes suddenly lighten up - well, as much as Toushiro's eyes can – and he puts a hand to his chin in thought. "...That _was_ fun," he admits slowly, unsure.

She beams, laughing at his reaction. "I _told_ you!" she exclaims excitedly. "You have to listen to me more. Okay, now take these." She grabs more eggs and shoves them into his hands. "I brought the biggest basket we had in the house, so go nuts!"

And with that being said, she grabs her own and flings them through the air, grabbing more when her hand empties. He hesitates one last time, but watching her laugh in a care free manner, he finally smirks and throws his first one on his own. It's rather _satisfying_ to see it explode all over the cement wall, like all of his frustrations have suddenly gone away with his inhibitions. He's still been harboring bitter sentiments towards the company after that Ayane incident and with losing all his work. A part of him thinks back to how much this has all taken a toll on his manager, and that's why the next one that is plastered to the studio is for her.

But it's not _all_ for the sake of revenge. There's some part of him that's...having fun. This is unlike anything he's ever done before, always having been obsessed with proper manners. It's so new and liberating, and it's all thanks to the woman beside him right now, throwing eggs at a building in the pitch black of midnight for his sake. Ever since meeting Karin, he's become more of a wild spirit. She's changing him for the better, Matsumoto would say. He would never have done this otherwise, but it actually _does_ feel good, like lifting burdens off his chest.

"All right," Karin suddenly whispers. "Last two eggs." Holding them like bombs, she hands one to him and takes one for herself. "We're aiming for that window over there, in the front." She points it out for him. "I heard that's the office where all the major visiting producers from the company do their work. Okay, on three. One...two..._three!_"

In unison, the two release their eggs at the same time. Karin cries out happily as they land, one after another, right on the office window, splattering everywhere and sliding down as goo.

"Okay, now, run for it!" she screeches, grabbing his hand and bolting for her bike. He cries out at the sudden yank, almost tripping over his feet before balancing himself and following her. She laughs joyfully, breathlessly, as she tosses him his helmet and jams her own on.

"Hang on, Toushiro!" she orders him, kicking up the bike pedal and revving her engine. He barely has time to grab her waist before she books it, driving away like a maniac. He breathes in deeply in shock at the sudden lurch of movement.

_'There is simply no way we are in the speed limit!' _he thinks in a panic. But Karin shows no signs of slowing down. Frenzied, he jostles her shoulders, hoping she'll get the message to slow down. She only laughs breezily, not showing a care.

"Relax, Toushiro," she cries out against the howling wind. "I'll get us home in no time, and then we'll be home free."

He growls dangerously. Getting home quick isn't the problem! It's getting home safely that he's worried about. He furiously grips her shirt to convince her to decelerate when she suddenly lets out a shocked squeal, abruptly slowing down to a snail's pace. His body lurches forward against her.

_'What -'_

Suddenly, red and blue lights start flashing from behind them, and Hitsugaya hears the all too familiar sounds of a police siren.

…

The officer takes them back to his police car, leaving his partner to bring Karin's bike along with them to the police station.

"You kids are in a lot of trouble," he warns them irritably, signing along once he learns about Karin's condition from Toushiro. Apparently, the station had required its officers to learn sign language because of the large number of deaf drivers in the area.

Leaning against the hood of his car, he continues, "I'm surprised to see people of your age going at this. We usually get younger ones, barely into their teens." Karin grins sheepishly, and he glares disapprovingly. "That's right. I saw you throw those eggs and then drive away at a dangerous speed. Well, you'll be coming down to the station with me, and we're going to have to involve the studio in this for the vandalism charges on private property. _Plus_"_ –_ his eyes narrow down on the two of them – "the speeding charges are going to factor in, too."

"Yes, sir," he replies politely. The officer eyes him, running his gaze over his white hair and probably trying to determine whether it's bleached. Finally, he sighs and gestures them over.

"Get in the car," he orders. "We're taking you there now."

So Toushiro helps Karin into the seat and gets in himself, shutting the door. They drive away soon after, with the officer tailing them on her bike. They stay silent during the trip; the officer obviously does not want to make small talk, and he and Karin worry about saying something wrong in front of him.

The station is actually a rather large building, although the lot they pull into is almost completely empty, aside from the stray police cars parked here or there. Their cop glides into a space close to the front entrance, shutting off the engine abruptly.

"We're here," he says, but the two are already unbuckling their seat belts. "Follow me inside, you two."

He takes Karin by the hand and leads her along with him, keeping her close and secure. He doesn't want her to get in trouble for this when she had only been trying to do something nice for him.

"Stay on one of the benches," the officer orders them. "I'll have to make phone calls to the company, _and _I can't just let you two go alone. It's district laws." Eyeing them with distaste, he gruffly asks them, "Who can I call?"

"Um, Matsumoto Rangiku," he decides, giving him her number. "She's my manager."

With a glare and a nod, he briskly storms off to a room that could be his office to make the call, leaving the two standing by the entrance of the station. He rubs his hand against Karin's arm, trying to generate warmth to comfort her. She smiles appreciatively. But rather than sit, they simply stand with joined hands, gazing around at the inside of the station and wondering what will happen to them. Behind Hitsugaya, there's a wall lined with benches across the room. As she's gazing around, Karin eyes that wall and immediately notices that they're not alone.

There's a teenage girl sitting on one of them, snapping gum through her black lips. She's the classic image of a Gothic punk, with her spiky clothing and dark aura, and she's obviously gotten in trouble with the law. She gazes at them lazily, picking at her black nails.

However, her eyes, caked with eyeliner, halt when they land on Hitsugaya. Karin notices right away from over Toushiro's shoulder, and her eyes narrow at the woman. The girl glances at the side of his face appreciatively, enjoying the white hair and piercing eyes. Next, she shamelessly starts to run her eyes down his physique. After sliding her eyes over his broad back and shoulders, licking her lips in approval, she finally reaches his backside. The eyes halt, and she just fixedly stares at the sight with a pleased smirk, ignoring the woman he's with – who's growling at her _very _dangerously. In fact, there's practically steam coming out of her ears as she pulls her man closer.

And after all of his built up courage, after all of his fantasizing about taking the lead and romancing Karin with a single kiss until she's dizzy and can't stand upright, _she _is the one to grab him roughly by the collar, hitch him forward until they're fully pressed together tightly, and cover his mouth completely with her own.

It's not light and gentle and loving, as he has always imagined. Instead, it's steered by jealousy, so it's rough. Passionate. Domineering. _Mine._

She's attacking his lips with as much fervor as she can muster, keeping his head in place with her hands and making his skin sizzle with sparking electricity every time they brush against him. He feels himself go hot, probably generating enough heat to melt an igloo as she takes his kiss for her own in a display of ruthless possession. Mine, mine, _mine._

Like a bubbly high school girl, he feels his eyelashes flutter rapidly in his shock, gazing down at her as his lips pucker on their own accord. It's sweet, but it's short. When he finally registers what's happening to him – something wonderful and delightful and _mystifying – _he barely has time to close his eyes and respond before she pulls away, ripping their lips apart.

She's panting heavily, and he knows he is too. But she meets his gaze directly, assertively, not at all embarrassed or apologetic for what she's done so suddenly. The teenage girl on the bench is gazing at them in awe and disgust, but he's pretty sure that's what she'd wanted all along. Because there's something in her eyes, something primal and victorious and..._smug._

She's marked him as her own. And he'd be damned if it isn't the greatest feeling in the world.

**.. ღ ..**

By the time Matsumoto arrives in a fluster to pick them up, they're waiting on a bench for her, fully red in the face and twiddling their thumbs like children caught doing something naughty by their parents. And indeed, the look is inspired by the police officer seated in his chair behind his desk, glaring daggers at them.

When Karin had staked her claim and they'd finally come to their senses, he'd loudly cleared his throat. And when he'd looked over in shame and Karin had followed his lead, the man had been giving them a stern look with his arms crossed. He'd only pointed to the bench, and they'd hung their heads and complied, making sure to follow orders and behave by not making a peep. That meant they hadn't even had a chance to _talk_ about what had happened between them, which is why they're so shy when his manager demands to know what happened.

"Speeding?" she demands incredulously. "And what's this I hear about you _egging_ an Ayane recording studio?" Her eyes flicker to the police officer, and once she's sure he's preoccupied with the phone, she bends down hastily and hisses, "Why didn't you invite _me_?"

He rolls his eyes dryly. Just what he'd expected from her. Karin laughs, at least.

"Next time," she promises with a smirk, and all is forgiven.

"There's going to be a next time?" he asks, sounding pained, and his manager bursts into laughter. Well, until the police officer glares over at them.

"All right," he says with a gruff sigh, setting down the receiver. His disapproving eyes latch onto Hitsugaya and Karin. "You two got extremely lucky," he reports, signing along for Karin's sake. "That was the producer just now. He says he doesn't want to cause a big, negative scandal for the company, so he'll let this drop as long as _you two_ pay for cleaning services to scrub off the eggs. Understand?"

"Yes, sir," they both mumble.

"Good. Now, as for the speeding charge -"

"Oh, I'll pay that!" Matsumoto pipes up, and the two head to the back room to settle it.

So, the two "lovebirds" find themselves quite alone in the room – the rebelling teen had been released long ago, when her mother had picked her up.

"So..." he begins slowly when he realizes she's peeking at him from the corner of her eyes. When she gives him her full, abashed attention, he says, "That was..._some_ kiss."

She grins weakly. "Yeah. Um, sorry about that."

His eyes narrow all of a sudden. "...Don't," he whispers, shaking his head.

She tilts her head in confusion. "Don't what?"

Hesitantly, he reaches out a hand and strokes her cheek with the back of his two fingers. "Don't apologize for that."

She flushes a little at the intimate display and nods quickly. Then, she looks away towards the station's entrance, seeming to enjoy his stroking. However, as she's staring at the front door, a sly look flashes through her eyes, and she suddenly turns back and leans her body towards him, until the tips of their noses touch.

"You know, Toushiro," she whispers, startling him by the sudden change, "don't think I don't know what you're doing."

Mesmerized, he leans forward too. "And what am I doing?" he wants to know, dropping his hands from her face to sign.

"Trying to distract me," she says pointedly. When his face twists in bemusement, she sets a hand against his chest, smiling down at it before meeting his gaze. "Didn't _I _just take _you _on a date?"

It takes a moment for it to click, and when it does, he scoffs.

"Doesn't count," he argues lazily, already leaning away. She fists his shirt and pulls him back.

"Why not!" she complains in a whine. "I took you out, we had some food – granted, we _threw _the eggs rather than eating them – and then, there was that _amazing _kiss..." She inches towards him more, farther than just the tip of their noses this time, and he sees her eyelashes flutter as she blinks. "I think I'm entitled to _two_."

"...All right," he relents rather breathlessly, staring at her lips, which had stopped in a pucker with her last word. When had Karin learned to be so..._seductive_? He nods as well, in case she hadn't seen his lips, and she beams as she leans away just enough so she _can_. He holds up a hand anyway, and signs, "What do you want to know?"

"Hmm..." She pauses to think, but he has a feeling she already knows what she wants to ask. And, indeed, she doesn't think long before she decides.

"Tell me, Toushiro," she says a little more loudly this time, "did that kiss do to you what it did to me?"

He blinks. "...Huh?"

With a chuckle at his flabbergasted expression, she scoots forward so that, rather than leaning into him, she's pressed against his side. Her face is still wonderfully close.

"I _mean_," she clarifies, "did you _like _it? Did it make you think of only _me_? Did you want more?"

"_Karin_," he stutters, gaping down at her smirk. She only looks at him expectantly, and though this would usually be a time he would be flustered, he decides that she doesn't deserve that right now. Not after she'd just kissed him. He doesn't want her to get the wrong idea or make her feel insecure. So, clearing his throat, he nods his head.

"Yes," he answers honestly, still nodding. "Yes to all of that. It was..._amazing._"

Her smirk widens, and she abruptly leans away. To his astonishment, she whips her head to the doorway and yells, "Did you hear that?"

He immediately gazes over to the entrance, and a scowling teenager's face suddenly appears in the doorway. It's the same girl from before, who'd been on the bench when they'd come in. He realizes with a jolt that Karin had probably seen her in the doorway, and that's why she'd changed so suddenly.

"You two make me _sick_," the girl snarls, marching over to the bench to grab a jacket she'd apparently left behind before stomping away.

Karin starts snickering, and Toushiro glares down at her disapprovingly.

"So," he signs furiously, "you did all that to -"

"Get back at her, yeah," she admits easily, unabashed. Then, completely unaffected and over it, she turns back to him. "So, now, a question just for _me!_"

He sighs wearily. "All right. What is it?"

With a shy smile, she carefully asks him, "Was that your first kiss?" When he looks at her in shock, she hurriedly goes on to say, "I'm only asking because it was my first, too!" Embarrassed, she softly explains, "I just hoped that someday in the future, when people tell us we have the most amazing relationship they've ever seen, we'll get to tell them our first kisses were with each other...?"

He smiles down at her affectionately as she trails off with a hanging question. "Yes," he whispers back. "We will."

She beams in relief, pleased by his answer.

After that, they sit in silence until Matsumoto returns. She's laughing with the police officer, swatting his arm flirtatiously, and he looks pleased with himself. When she turns her back to walk over to them, she sends them a thumbs-up sign.

"I got him to waive the ticket and the fee," she whispers proudly with a wink, and Hitsugaya groans. "Let's get going then, shall we? I'll drive Karin-chan back first."

Scurrying out of the station, they find her car in the lot.

"It's too cold to drive home on a motorcycle, so I'll have someone come pick up Karin-chan's bike in the morning," Matsumoto tells him, and he translates it to sign language.

"That's fine," she agrees easily with a shrug.

They slip into the awaiting car. Though he always takes the passenger's seat when Matsumoto drives him, this time he slips into the back with Karin, resting an arm aound her shoulder on the seat.

"So..." his manager begins, gazing at him from the rear-view mirror. "You wanna tell me what happened?"

With a sigh, he briefly relays the events that had happened in the night to lead up to this point, conveniently forgetting the more personal experiences. He owes her an explanation after making her drive all the way out here. A thought hits him just then.

"Weren't you at the bars?" he cries out in alarm, whipping his head towards the window. Strangely enough, they're driving perfectly smoothly.

"I was actually at home, _thank you very much_," she quips back. "...Gin's coming over tomorrow morning, and I didn't want to be hung over when he did." Through the mirror, it almost looks like she's..._blushing._

He raises an eyebrow, but chooses not to comment. Instead, he turns his attention to Karin, who had been politely looking out the window to let them talk without feeling the need to go out of their way to include her. He taps her shoulder, and when she looks back at him, he grins and presses his lips to her forehead. She flushes and claps a hand over the spot.

"What was that for?" she asks in wonder.

He scoffs. "Unlike _some _people, I don't have ulterior motives for kissing others," he says pointedly in a low voice, and she sticks out her tongue. However, she settles back into his side and against his arm comfortably.

It takes a while to return to her dorms, but when they do, he's gotten too warm to want to let her go. But he does so hesitantly, promising to come see her again soon.

"Or maybe another producer will come to town and _I'll _come to _you_," she jokes as she's getting out of the car, laughing at the look of horror on his face.

"Okay, that's enough flirting!" Matsumoto interrupts, though she's smirking at the scene. "It's past two-thirty in the morning, and I don't want bags under my eyes tomorrow."

"You should go get some sleep," he signs to Karin, looking at her worriedly. "It's getting late."

"Yes, _Mom_," she teases, already stepping back from the car.

Before leaving, however, she pauses and looks back at him, narrowing her eyes. Before he can ask her what's wrong, she suddenly ducks her head back into the car and pecks his lips briefly.

"I don't need an ulterior motive to kiss you, either," she mumbles against his lips. Then she pulls away and runs inside, laughing.

Though he's shocked to his core at first, a hazy smile soon settles on his face. Drunk with happiness, he finally relaxes and lays back in his seat, smirking in cocky satisfaction.

Well, until he catches sight of Matsumoto gaping at his lips, finally realizing how swollen they are.

"_No way!_" she screeches joyfully.

Well, _damn. _He just _knows _he's never going to hear the end of this from her.

* * *

><p><strong>I liked the idea of making the kiss rough after all the awkward blushing and romance :)<strong>

**Also, sadly, I've come to realize that this story will be ending soon :( I really only have a few more conflicts to solve in the chapters to come (his career and her story), and then this will finally be complete. I think it turned out pretty well, though, especially since I never planned at first to make it more than a one-shot – this was pretty much all off the top of my head!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Well, it has been entirely too long :( I'm sorry! Really, I didn't mean to leave you guys hanging, and so I'm finally updating. On another note, you'll notice I changed the summary for this. That's because this story has finally passed the one-year-old mark, and I just felt like making a change :D The same is true for _Armistice_, though I forgot to mention it when I updated that.**

**So, we're finally nearing the end, guys. This chapter is the one we've been waiting for, and there is just one more left after this. I was planning on making it two, but they'll probably be so short that way, so I'm combining them into just one long chapter. And I can end on a round number, like _ten_ chapters! :P So, yeah, only one chapter left :(**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any of its characters.**

* * *

><p>He sighs as he slowly pulls his lips apart from Karin's, smirking down at the hazy fluttering of her eyelashes. A smile slides onto her face, and she lets out a low hum he's not sure she realizes she's making. Taking a quick breath, he swoops back down into that perfect, desirable embrace, once again kissing her slowly for the umpteenth time that day and relishing in the way she instantly responds. Finally, she pulls back this time, though her hands stay tangled in his hair and her lips lightly on his.<p>

"Don't you have to go?" she mumbles, her eyes still closed as she deeply breathes in his clean scent. He shakes his head before pressing himself against her, going for her mouth. With a laugh, she pulls back again. "Yes, you do," she insists, finally opening her eyes to gaze into his. "Don't let me stop you, or Matsumoto will come looking for us."

He breathes out harshly in aggravation, acknowledging her words to be true. That does not mean he has to like them. At the moment, he's silently cursing himself for scheduling an appointment with his manager when he'd known he would be meeting up with Karin right before; he was always usually too engrossed in her to want to leave, and he berates himself for not predicting his present reluctance.

"I'll just wait here," she assures him in an attempt to placate the musician, noticing how the skin around his lips tightens as he frowns. "Hanging around here isn't much different than staying in my own dorm."

"All right," he finally nods in agreement; knowing she will still be around when he comes back is a great relief. Untangling his arms from her waist and unpinning her from the side of his sofa, he stands in what feels like the longest time. Stretching slightly to uncoil his frozen muscles, he reaches for the tie Karin had hastily yanked off him earlier, carefully knotting it around his neck once again while his girlfriend grins sheepishly. However, unlike the first few times they had ever allowed things to grow heated between them, that deep blush is nowhere in sight, and the observation appeases him even more.

It's been over half a year since their first kiss, and the two grow more comfortable around each other with each passing day. Kissing certainly has become a routine in their relationship, and more than once, their hands had gained a brave urge to explore that he would never have thought possible of himself before meeting her. Though it's usually Karin who initiates the more intimate contact, he'd be lying by denying that he enjoys it.

Karin flops down against the back of the couch once again as he pulls on his shoes, lazily turning on the television. They wave good-bye before he hurries out, eager to return once again after his meeting. There's a glint of amusement in his girlfriend's eyes as she watches him leave, though he can't fathom why. Rather than decipher every possibility for her behavior, however, he decides to focus on the meeting for the time being instead. It really is an important matter to attend to, as well as one he and Matsumoto have been planning for months. At the same time, he knows it's something that could possibly make Karin happier than he has ever seen her, so he tries to tone down his unhappiness as he takes a train over to his manager's apartment.

Matsumoto answers her door with her usual enthusiasm, grinning from ear to ear and practically bursting with energy. However, once she catches sight of his face, she claps a hand over her mouth and her eyes pool with tears. He looks on in bemusement as she practically turns red from attempting to stifle laughter, stumbling back and bending over.

"Were you with Karin-chan?" she chokes out, taking deep breaths to help calm her. But she's never been a serene person, so it doesn't really help.

"Yes," he answers in complete confusion, narrowing his eyes down at her suspiciously. "Why?"

That's apparently too much for his manager, because she bursts out into gasps of laughter and points a trembling finger at him. "There's lipstick smeared _all _over your mouth!"

Gaping at her, he quickly wipes at his lips in shock. When he pulls it back, there's a light pink smudge all over his fingers. He stares down at it in horror, realizing that he had traveled all the way here looking like this; no wonder everyone on the train had sent him strange looks, though he'd just figured they recognized him as the famous musician and ignored them. And that explains the humor in Karin's eyes as he'd left. She'd let him walk out of the house this way, fully aware of his appearance! He was going to _kill _her.

"Nice to know you're getting along so well," Matsumoto teases him with a wink, her laughter dying down to controlled hiccups. With a mortified glare, he brushes past her and into the kitchen, where he begins wiping at his lips with a wet napkin. He hadn't thought of the possibility of lipstick, as she so rarely wears it in the first place. And now the entire neighborhood – what's worse, Matsumoto – would know that he'd been making out with his girlfriend! Oh, the humiliation.

Matsumoto leans against the kitchen wall, one hand on her hips. Trying to avoid direct contact with her sly eyes, he assesses his surroundings instead. Her apartment is just as messy as he had last seen it, crammed with memorabilia from her past in every corner and filthy from lack of cleaning up. She likes to save such tasking work for the weekends, he knows, which usually results in a mess piling up. Despite his insistence, she refuses to change her bad habit, which is why he hates visiting when he can avoid it. Today, however, he can't, because Karin can't learn of their plans until he can surprise her.

"Just give me what I'm here for," he snaps, his mood souring horribly from the elated dizziness it had been since his date that morning. His manager doesn't miss a beat when she swings around to comply, sending him another wink before sauntering off.

"She's waiting for you, isn't she?"

He doesn't dignify that with a response, feeling his ears burn from the embarrassment. She's never going to let him here the end of this, just like the first time she had seen them brush lips in the back of her car. For weeks afterwards, whenever all three were together, she would gawk at the couple closely, afraid to miss even one kiss. It had made the start of their budding relationship more awkward than it should have been, but now he's afraid that both women would just get a good laugh out of it together at his expense.

"Here you go," Rangiku calls out cheerfully, bouncing back into the kitchen with her hands full. She hands him all the papers in her hands, going through each one individually. "Ukitake-san called me this morning," she goes on to inform him. "He already flew over last night, and he says that everything is ready for your performance. Your passport with the renewed photo came in this morning, too. It's in there, along with everything else you need."

"Thanks, Matsumoto," he replies sincerely, gracing her with a rare smile. He would have had no time to do this all himself, especially while keeping Karin so close to him all the time. It's times like these that he really appreciates her and all she does for him, even if they don't see eye to eye on so many things.

"No problem!" she replies brightly, batting his arm and smirking. "But you'll have to tell me every detail of this when you come back in return."

"We'll see," he answers with a low chuckle, tucking everything into his coat so he can eagerly return to his girlfriend. He wisely keeps his real thoughts a secret. _'Like hell I will.'_

**.. ღ ..**

"I can't believe this is really happening," Karin marvels, gazing around the airport in awe.

Hitsugaya chuckles at the sight of her childish admiration, taking both their bags into his hands as they step out into the bustling city of New York. The double doors of the airport automatically part for them, and a blast of warm air rushes past. Karin eagerly takes in the crowded streets, filled to the brim with so many people it's a miracle anyone has walking space. Everyone looks so busy and engrossed in their own thing that some almost bump into the two newcomers, pulling away at the last second with a mumbled apology. The sky, painted with the color of smog, has yet to darken, meaning they have quite some time to meet their appointment. Content with how well they're sticking to their schedule, Hitsugaya takes the time to relax and enjoy Karin's reactions instead.

The delight is nothing compared to when he had first given her the news after returning from his manager's home, which had been an attack of a flurry of kisses to every part she could reach of him. Of course, first he had to bear her extremely satisfied snickers over the whole lipstick debacle, but after she had calmed herself, he'd presented her with a ticket from the pair he'd received from Matsumoto.

"For you," he had signed in response to her quizzical look. She'd taken it reluctantly, turning it over in her hands before raising an eyebrow. "I have a performance scheduled in New York in one week, and I wanted you to come. Didn't you tell me on one of our first dates that you've always wanted to travel?"

She had been so touched at his thoughtfulness, as well as how he'd taken care to remember such a trivial fact she's told him about herself – and almost a year ago, too. And she'd accepted the proposal with enthusiasm, throwing her arms around his neck and trying to read the information on her ticket at the same time.

"Hitsugaya-san!" He hears a kind voice call out to him in the middle of the crowd, pulling him out of his happy memory. Swinging his head over to the source, he catches sight of Ukitake waving at him, smiling next to a car parked on the curb. With a sigh of relief, he grabs the ignorant Karin's hand and drags her along to the man who had come especially to pick them up. He welcomes them kindly and asks, "I trust your flight was okay?"

Karin nods happily as they step into the backseat of the car, thinking back to her excitement at traveling on a plane for the first time. She'd driven the flight attendant crazy with her demands, as well as amused Toushiro to no end with how restless she'd grown after just the first hour; he's surprised she hadn't seen that coming herself. Of course, he had no complains whatsoever when she'd opted to lay her head in his lap for a small nap, falling asleep to his gentle, absentminded stroking of her hair.

Ukitake had brought the driver from his company so he could converse with them more easily. As Karin plasters her face to the window and watches everything pass by, he and Hitsugaya finally get a chance to talk properly about the arrangement he had made. The musician had been searching for months to find an opportunity to treat his girlfriend a chance to travel out of the country, a secret desire she'd apparently revealed to him on a date. But anyone who knew the girl could agree that she would be firmly opposed to spending so much money simply for her sake, so Hitsugaya needed an excuse in the form of a recital. It had warmed Ukitake's heart to learn of his quest, and he'd managed to convince the owner of his company that a pianist would be the perfect addition to their upcoming social event in America.

"Ayane-san did a number on him, too, unfortunately," he reports gravely, watching as Shiro-chan's lips thin out into a straight line. "It took a lot of convincing, but I finally managed to persuade him to see things my way. He was willing to trust my words and hire you for tonight."

"Thank you, Ukitake-san," he retorts gratefully, turning his head towards Karin with a soft grin. "Truly."

**.. ღ ..**

It's well into the night when they finally arrive outside Ukitake's company. He has Karin on his arm, keeping her close by his side as they walk into a new building in a foreign land. He's well aware of the challenges her hearing loss will present, especially as she has never spoken the language, but he's more than willing to stick close to her and translate all night if he has to. Though Karin hardly seems perturbed by the obstacles in her path; she had let nothing dampen her spirits that afternoon.

The driver had taken them around the city, driving past tall buildings and shopping centers. Despite Karakura being a bustling city, it's apparently a different experience altogether with New York, as Karin could hardly contain her astonishment at everything she'd spied through the window. Toushiro had decided to lay back and let her enjoy the view; though he would have preferred to drop off their things and rest first, it had been rather obvious that she would have simply refused the suggestion point blank.

Later in the evening, however, they had finally stopped at their hotel. Matsumoto had booked the two of them just one room to share, but – thank Kami – had ordered for two beds rather than just one. He'd told her to spare no expense for his girlfriend' sake, so their room had been extremely spacious. There had even been a whole wall made of glass with a couch set up facing it, so anyone could enjoy the view of the city below.

"Fancy," Karin had commented with a low whistle, right before the two had rushed off to change for the recital.

But it was nothing compared to the building before them now. The skyscraper stands tall and proud, with smartly dressed businessmen passing through the doors eagerly. He's not quite sure _what _event Ukitake's company is celebrating, but it must be rather important for them to pull out all the stops. Even when they take just one step in, feeling a blast of cool air that's a relief from the humidity outside, they can see that they've entered an extremely classy place.

"Ah, there you two are!" he hears Ukitake's kind voice call out for them. The man himself steps out from a separate room, his arms spread wide in welcome. "Excellent."

The recital itself is not a very big job. He needs only to perform for an hour before he's free and he can get back to his girlfriend. But the second he steps into the room, Ukitake's boss whisks him away, determined to figure out whether he had made a mistake acting against Ayane's words. To Hitsugaya's irritation, he's forced to leave Karin behind, though she sends him a reassuring smile. With no other choice, he leaves her in Ukitake's care, too busy conversing with his employer about all of his past recitals and compositions. He only does so to be polite, though his mind is distracted with the thought of Karin, and his eyes keep wandering around the room to find her in the crowd.

It's a relief that Ukitake stays close to her. He accidentally catches the man's eyes while watching over Karin, and he gives him a small nod of reassurance. As a comforting gesture, he places a hand on Karin's back, keeping her close almost like an overprotective father as he leads her through the room.

She can't speak English like the two of them can, and he had worried that she might find herself lost in this throng of foreign people. But Ukitake sticks close to her at all times, practically _feeling _his waves of worry from across the room. He's a good sport about the entire situation, translating for her in all the conversations they have. He has no knowledge of sign language himself, but he's kind enough to speak slowly and clearly, as well as use wild gestures. There's even a twinkle of amusement in Karin's eyes at his attempts.

"_You're studying to be a lawyer, eh?" _one of the men from the company says thoughtfully. _"Well, maybe you can come work for us! We could do with an attorney."_

"_What do you intend to do that requires a private lawyer afterwards?" _Ukitake jokes, translating it for Karin after, and they all boom with laughter.

Slowly, she seems to loosen up and become comfortable with the arrangement, as well as the people, and that puts him at ease. Finally, he can give his _full _attention to the employer, secretly chuckling at the thought of how Matsumoto would react if she knew that he had blatantly disregarded the man paying them.

His time to play the piano approaches soon enough. Workers run into the hall, rolling out a piano to the stage and leading people to their table. He spies his two friends sitting at the end of the hall, wishing Karin could join him like usual. It really would have put him at ease. But, as this is such a formal event, it's not an option this time.

He knows she can't hear it. Even so, each time he looks over to her table, mostly as habit, she's looking at him with rapt attention. There's even pride in her eyes for her boyfriend, despite how many times he has done this already, and he can't help the rush of affection he feels towards her. Not that he would want to.

The owner catches up with him after, gushing about the performance as the audience claps excitedly._ "I knew I made the right choice with you. I must admit, when Ukitake proposed we use the man on Ayane's hit list, I was a little reluctant. But it worked out splendidly."_

_"Thank you," _he replies graciously before excusing himself. Karin greets him with a chaste kiss, overjoyed by the performance and the party. She's obviously had a good time, despite the strange company, and he's relieved about that. Really, he hadn't known what to expect after introducing her to such prim and proper people, but his girlfriend is apparently excellent with her words. Then again, she would have to be, what with her aiming to be a lawyer.

"Ukitake-san was just telling me all about the New Year's party they had last year," she signs excitedly. "These people really know how to have a good time! And, oh, yeah. Great job up there. Everyone loved you."

He smirks down at her in amusement. "Thanks. So what do you say we get out of here now?"

"Already?" Her face falls in disappointment.

"You must be tired from the flight," he argues. "Besides, we should get up bright and early tomorrow to make the most of exploring the city."

She immediately lights up again at the proposal, reminded of their week-long vacation. They hadn't done enough sight-seeing to satisfy her at all, despite the many places they had visited and the things they had seen. She knows it's selfish, but she's been looking forward to the city slightly more than the recital, despite how supportive she usually is of her boyfriend's work. Then again, he seems at ease with her excitement, so she figures he's all right with her priorities.

"Let me just say goodbye," she calls hurriedly. He watches with interest as she runs over to a small group of people, sending them her greetings and gratitude for keeping her company. When she returns, he offers her his arm, which she easily slips her hand into. On their way out of the hall, he's hit with a sudden, welcoming thought.

"You know, this building has a nice restaurant, too," he signs to her casually, already wary of how she'll react. "Maybe we should have dinner here. I mean, we're already_–_"

"That'll be way too expensive, I'm sure," she quips back, and his brows furrow at the glare in her eyes. She pulls away and folds her arms, scowling. "We can always have dinner somewhere less expensive, and I'm sure it'll be just as good."

"Karin," he sighs, attempting to reason with her, "we're in a new city that's brimming with all these new things. At least let me spoil you _here_."

He can tell that she wants to argue with him, considering the way her mouth tightens and her eyes light up even more, but she relents. Maybe she can see the determination in his eyes, or understands his urgency on the matter. He just wants her to let him do _something _boyfriend-worthy for once, rather than worrying for her own pride or others' discomfort.

So he takes her hand in his and leads her out of the party hall, ignoring the sag of her defeated shoulders. He would make this the best date yet, and then maybe she would let him do things like this for her more often.

**.. ღ ..**

They leave the restaurant hours later, quite content with the way the night had gone. He's smug that Karin had so clearly enjoyed herself, and even she has to admit that eating somewhere so formal had been a welcome change. But they head back to their apartment with relief written on their faces, ready to rest after a day of both travel and adventure. Ukitake calls them a car once again, refusing point blank to let them walk home so late.

"These streets can be dangerous here at night," he warns them in concern. "I don't want to take chances with either of you."

Both thank him profusely as he rushes back to his company's event, a warm smile on his lips and a goodbye on his tongue. He winks at Hitsugaya discretely before disappearing behind the doors, as their plan is going off without a hitch. Now that the performance is out of the way, the couple can enjoy just a week of being with each other in the city, as had been Hitsugaya's intention all along. He prays to Kami that Karin never finds out, though, because he's sure to get an earful from her otherwise.

"It's so busy here, even at night," she notes, looking impressed at the straggling pedestrians and bright signs lighting up the area. They live in a more subdued part of the city back home, after all, and she's never had a chance to discover such a different world than her own.

His answer is to grunt in assent, though he does grip her hand tighter for fear of losing her in the crowd. She hardly notices, as she's too busy gazing at everything with interest, and he smirks when he feels her unconsciously return the gesture. Content with letting her explore from the sidewalk, he impatiently checks the watch on his wrist, wondering when their car would finally arrive.

It's then, when they're both ignorant and unsuspecting, that a horrifying scream rips through the air.

"_Somebody help me!" _a woman screeches somewhere near by, her voice thick with nothing but cold, gripping terror. The terrifying voice rings in his ears, and he whips his head around furiously to locate the source, his own eyes wide. _"Please!"_

"Toushiro, what's wrong?" a clueless Karin asks him when she notices how strange he's acting. He looks down at her, and her expression twists into concern when she notices how horrified he looks. She places a comforting hand on his cheek, impatiently trying to pry an answer out of him. "Tell me."

"There's a woman..." he begins to explain, running a hand roughly through his hair. And that's when he finally sees her.

Behind Karin, he notices there's a dark alleyway beside the building he had just performed in. He doesn't have to strain his eyes to take note of the frightening debacle taking place inside. He can see a woman backed up against a corner, her face deformed in her dread; there's tears streaming down from her eyes and a cut bleeding on her cheek, and he notices the way her dress is ripped roughly by the neck and dropping down her shoulder. And there's three men, all sneering in both mirth and anticipation as they eye the purse she's clutching to her body for dear life.

"Those sons of..." He growls furiously, whipping out his phone and furiously dialing the emergency number.

"_Police station_," a bored woman drawls on the other end, and he hears her pop her gum lazily. _"How may I help you?"_

_"There's a woman getting mugged in an alleyway over here,"_ he cries impatiently into the phone, giving her the address to the building and snapping at her to hurry. Then he swerves towards Karin – who he knows is the type to jump into the situation herself and try to help – and grabs her by the shoulders. "Stay here, no matter what."

Ripping himself away from her, he belts towards the alleyway, hoping to intervene before something dreadful happens. Karin gapes after him, and only then does she finally notice what had been happening in the dark corner tucked behind them. Her body completely freezes.

Toushiro manages to reach the scene just as one of the men makes a grab for the woman's purse, and he snatches the man's wrist when it's only inches before he can touch her.

_"You call yourself a man?"_ he hisses dangerously. His eyes narrow into slits, and the expression on his face is so lethal the man gulps at the sight of him. The shadows shrouding his face only add to his menacing aura, and the three attackers pause before coming to their senses.

_"Stay outta this,"_ one slurs drunkenly, glaring right back at him. He staggers towards him, but despite his obvious intoxication, his face clearly threatens him with a brutal fight. The poor woman squeaks in fright at the sight of it, and Toushiro feels his blood boil at the weak sound.

_"Keep away from her,"_ he warns them, flinging away the man's wrist. The force causes his whole body to stumble back, and he crashes down onto the street.

_"Now you've done it!"_ the third man growls, and Toushiro sets his jaw determinedly when he notices him pulling out a pocket knife from inside his jacket. With a dangerous gleam in his eyes, he points the blade at the musician and advances slowly. Toushiro only takes a tentative step in front of the woman, determined to protect her until the end.

But it turns out he doesn't have to. Red and blue lights suddenly flash against the walls surrounding them, and all five of them freeze in apprehension at the impending interference.

"_Stop right there, and put down your weapon_," a deep voice booms into the street, and they look over to see a police officer glaring at the scene before him. The three men yelp and immediately begin to scamper away, but considering they're in a dead-end alley while completely drunk, they don't make it too far.

Toushiro sighs in relief while the officer rounds them up, turning to the trembling woman behind him. _"Are you all right?"_

"_I-I think so," _she breathes out weakly, steadying herself on her feet. Her dress still keeps slipping, however, because of the large tear, and he hastily pulls off his jacket and wraps it around her. Then he leads her out to the street, hoping she'll feel safer in an area with so much light, before handing her off to a second officer.

"_We'll need to question you," _the cop informs him as she places a soothing hand on the woman's shoulder, and he nods seriously. Leaving the victim in the officer's capable hands, he finally stalks back to Karin anxiously.

To his immense relief, she had actually heeded his words and planted herself in the same spot he had left her. He would have expected her to jump in right after him, swinging her fists and spitting out cuss words, much to his horror. But he's exceedingly grateful that she _hadn't _given him a heart attack tonight. She keeps staring at the alleyway, however, and he wonders whether she fears the three would somehow get away. He doesn't see how that's possible, though, as they're already handcuffed and restricted in every way.

"Karin," he unconsciously calls out to her as he approaches, but he also carefully takes her hand in his to alert her of his presence.

She doesn't look his way. In fact, she doesn't even react to his touch in any way, and he immediately feels worry underline his emotions. Hesitantly, he places his second hand on her shoulder, attempting to turn her and face him, but she stands so rigidly that she won't budge. Finally, he takes matters into his own hand and twists into her direct line of vision himself, but what he sees only makes him freeze in his place.

Her face is oh, so pale, and her eyes unblinking. There's nothing but terror written in her gaze, even if her entire face is impassive, and it's still trained on the alleyway. And then, because of the hand in hers and the palm on her shoulder, he notices the most shocking observation yet.

"Karin, are you..._shaking_?" he questions, completely appalled by her extreme reaction. She doesn't answer him, though. With her hazy eyes still staring at the alley from over his shoulder, she misses the movement of his lips and the question flies over her head. Panicking slightly now, he jostles her shoulder until she snaps her gaze to his in shock. "_Karin, _what's wrong?"

She swallows thickly several times, and though she repeatedly opens and closes her mouth, no sound leaves her lips. It scares him, though he would never admit it to anyone but her. Instead, he furrows his eyebrows deeply to convey his confusion, and she seems to snap out of her daze slightly at the action. But that's really no better, because when she finally meets his eyes directly – her gaze frighteningly helpless and lost, pulling at his heart strings effortlessly – he finds that her bottom lip is trembling, despite her attempts to make it stop.

Then she goes right back to staring at the alley, looking unbearably terrorized.

**.. ღ ..**

When the car finally arrives to pick them up, he ushers her in immediately, very much playing the part of the overprotective lover. What scares him is that Karin makes not one peep of protest, though normally she would have chewed his head off.

The police had indeed questioned him over the events. He and Karin had been in that same position when they'd wandered over, keenly aware that they were interrupting something private but bound by duty to ask. He'd answered stiffly and hastily, his mind still on his girlfriend who had laid her head against his chest to avoid looking at anyone.

The woman he saved had stepped up next, shuffling awkwardly on her feet as she tightened his jacket around her figure.

"_Thank you so much," _she had expressed to him, biting her lips shyly and blushing. Her expression had become visibly disheartened when she took notice of his proximity to Karin, realizing her valiant savior already had someone special and she could not claim him as her own. It had irritated him to no end, and he'd been more than just a little cool when accepting her gratitude and brushing her off.

_"Do you, um, want your jacket back?"_ she had asked timidly, already unwrapping the garment.

_"Keep it,"_ he had snapped impatiently, too preoccupied with his stricken girlfriend at the moment to care for much else. Fortunately, the driver had arrived just then, meaning he had managed to keep his temper in check as he whisked them away and left the woman in their dust.

Neither speaks a word now as the car takes them to their hotel. He's still holding her in his arms for comfort, and she's still tucked up against him, but both stare blankly out the window at the flitting scenery.

He has a sneaking suspicion that he knows what this is about. It had only been an inkling when the thought nested itself in his head, but it has grown into a fearful idea that plagues his mind relentlessly. He's not comfortable asking her, however, because he's afraid of how she might react to his inquiries. Obviously the turmoil she's facing is already so deep, and the last thing he would ever want is to add to that. So he keeps his thoughts to himself and respects her obvious desire for silence.

The chauffeur drops them off at the front entrance, tipping his hat in farewell when they step out. They stand on the sidewalk and watch him drive away for a moment, _still_ holding each other in their arms. Then he gently leads her inside, acting as her eyes because her gaze is still so blank and far off. She lets him lead her without putting up any sort of a fight, which is, once again, only a cause for alarm.

The door to their hotel room _clicks _as it unlocks and swings open, and he ushers her inside before closing it softly behind them. Now that they are alone, he had hoped that perhaps she would speak up and explain this strange reactions of hers, which has his stomach coiling and dropping unpleasantly. But she just stands at his side helplessly, as if unsure of what to do next. Taking charge, he delicately takes her by her shoulders and steers her to the couch facing the glass wall.

They settle in together silently, and he pulls her to lean against him, wrapping an arm over her form and rubbing her arms to generate a comforting warmth. For agonizing minutes, they simply stare out the glass, watching the city carry on below. He can hear cars honking and people shouting at one another, as well as music blaring so loudly that it reaches their top floor. But the one thing he _wants _to hear the most is Karin's voice, steady as it always is and assuring him that she's perfectly fine and he needn't worry. Of course, that doesn't happen – not for a while yet.

Finally, Karin shifts on the couch, her gaze still on the city as she lays herself against his side and her head on his chest. He doesn't look her way, because he gets the feeling she doesn't want him to. And, almost as a reward, she grants him the one thing he had wanted.

"I was sixteen when it happened," she states. Her voice sounds so dead, far away, as if she's speaking more to someone in her head than the person pressed against her. It's a mechanical sound that he can tell she's forcing out. She doesn't have to turn and look to see if he is listening or speaking to her; the former is a given, and the latter, he knows, would only intrude upon this private moment she's had to muster up her courage for. It must be tough for her, because she refuses to look away from the view and at him – so he does the same.

"It was a weird thing, you know," she continues, just as hollow as before. "One minute, I could hear, and the next... I couldn't. It was really as simple as that, though it didn't feel like it. Mostly it just felt unfair, like it shouldn't have happened to me. But it did, and I had to deal with it anyway."

She takes a pause, long and tense as if preparing herself for battle. And then, finally, she takes a deep, reassuring breath and begins her tale – her story of _how? _that he's waited patiently to hear all this time.

"I was on my way home from school..."

**.. ღ ..**

_Years Earlier._

Karin cursed as the sun continued to dip below all the rooftops, covering the city in shadows and reminding her just how late she was. Track practice had ended up lasting longer than anyone had planned, and though she had managed to break her personal record today, the pride from her achievement was already giving way to her anxiety. Yuzu would be furious if she was late for dinner again.

"Ichi-nii already rarely comes home from university," she liked to lecture. "How are we supposed to remain a family if we can't even sit down to a simple dinner together every night?"

So Karin was close to sprinting home by now, afraid of her sister's reaction to her tardiness. If she was unlucky, the devious actress would bring on the tears, knowing full well that Karin was weak to them. And she would rather just avoid that whole mess in the first place. As if her father needed another reason to start bawling along.

With that in mind, the Kurosaki decided to take a shortcut home from school. She normally didn't bother with it, as it hardly shaved off enough minutes to really be concerned about, but those moments would definitely make a difference today. She cut into a corner between two houses in her neighborhood, jogging down the path surrounded by their fences while the sun continued to set. Having never come this way so late, it came as a surprise when she found her path blocked by people. And a rowdy-looking bunch at that.

"Well, lookie here," some gigantic beast of a man grumbled, following his words with a rough chuckle. Someone in the group snickered.

"Some girl thinks she can just walk into our turf without any consequences, huh?" he called out in his gratingly squeaky voice.

Karin rolled her eyes at their antics. "Chill, guys. I didn't know it was your "_turf_" or whatever. Just go back to destroying your lives and killing your brain cells, and I'll just take the long way home."

Some of them boomed with laughter, while others scowled at her dangerously. Karin shot them a bored look, already walking away from them backwards; there was no way she was going to turn her back on these losers, because she wouldn't put it past them to attack her when she was unguarded rather than putting up a fair fight.

"Stop," one of them called, and she watched as he pushed his way to the front. Judging by the way the others cowered when he approached and parted like the sea, it was obvious he was their leader. He shot her a contemplative look. "That face... It looks familiar."

"I guess the usual reply would be to tell you that I get that a lot?" she stated dryly, a frown overtaking her face. As the corners of her lips dropped, however, a spark of recognition flashed in the guy's eyes.

"That scowl. I remember it." He narrowed his eyes, suddenly glaring at her dangerously. He bared back his teeth in a threatening way, showing her his sharp canines. "It's just like the one Kurosaki Ichigo had."

Suddenly, all of his men seemed to murmur in agreement, leaning forward to get a good look at her. She saw many of their faces twist in uncontrolled anger at the mention of the name, and one of them spat on the ground in disgust. She glowered at them, furious of the way they spoke of her brother. They'd probably fought him in high school, lost badly, and were still whining about it.

"If you're talking about my brother like that, then I bet he kicked each and every one of your asses, right?" she mocked them.

There was a cry of outrage after her taunt, and many of them took a step towards her menacingly. She didn't even flinch at their tough acts; her own brother had taught her to fight, after all, and she knew she could hold her own against them.

"Your brother, huh?" the leader spat out. "Well, we have a _score _to settle with that guy. He beat up some of our men years back, and he was too much of a coward to fight when we called him out for it." Rage flashed through his eyes, passing quickly like it had never been there. But it was soon replaced by a thoughtful expression, one that Karin definitely didn't like. He was eyeing her as if she was a lamb for slaughter, and that vicious grin he put on his lips had her feeling suspicious.

"What ya thinking, boss?" one of his men asked dumbly.

"I'm thinking that we finally found a way to get back at that bastard," he replied smoothly, his eyes never straying from her guarded figure. "I'm sure beating his sister to an inch of her life would send him the message that we're serious. What do you think?"

There was a roar of approval from his comrades, and he smirked. Karin didn't wait to hear anymore. Instantly dropping her bag, she rolled up her sleeves and placed her fists in front of her body, ready to defend herself. Many of them laughed, but she simply glared back, determined to show them just how wrong they were to even _think _of messing with her.

"You two," the boy snapped at two men standing nearby. "Go mess her up for us."

They didn't need to be told twice. Grinning maniacally and cracking their knuckles, they lunged for her to cheers from the gang watching behind them. Karin smirked slyly, never flinching or shrinking away. Instead, the second one was close enough, she swung her fist into his face, dodged an attack from the other, and kicked him so hard he went flying. It took a matter of seconds, and then both were on the ground, unconscious from the sheer power in her attacks.

"Is that all you've got?" she goaded them, letting a smirk shine through. There was stunned silence after her display, making Karin feel exceptionally smug.

"You chit!" he snapped in anger, turning to the rest. "Don't just stand there like idiots! _Get her_."

Jumping at his command, all of them came barreling at her, determination gleaming in their eyes. They came with their fists swinging, growling dangerously. Karin welcomed them gladly, feeling her adrenaline still pumping from her past victory. When anyone came too close, she would dodge them smoothly before returning their attacks in kind, taking out several in one go. They would drop like flies, unable to keep up with her practiced agility.

But then she heard someone yell, "Backup's here!" And suddenly, she was surrounded by what felt like hundreds of bloodthirsty men, all advancing on her at once. They were so big, and so strong, and Karin felt herself slip up several times under the pressure.

"You're no match for us," one of them grunted, just before swiftly punching her in the gut. She doubled over, out of breath, before falling to the pavement.

"I'm just one...high school girl," she gasped out, despite the pain. "If you need fifty men just to deal with me..."

"_Shut up_," someone growled, angrily cutting her off with a kick to her shoulder. She gasped loudly before biting down on her lip, refusing to make any sounds of surrender and fueling their satisfaction. But they didn't seem to need any sort of encouragement; the second she curled up and showed the slightest weakness, they surrounded her like a pack of hungry wolves, not holding back even a little bit in their assault.

Their kicks and punches came in a relentless flurry, and in her position, Karin couldn't even think of fighting back. Anytime she attempted to get back up on her feet, they would ruthlessly kick her back down, laughing cruelly at her feeble tries. She gritted her teeth at the onslaught, but being surrounded by men who were so much bigger and stronger than her meant that she was next to powerless in this vulnerable state. She could only wait for it to stop.

She wasn't sure who the first kick to the head came from. But she knew it wasn't the last. There were already scorching hot wounds on her body, gushing with blood that covered the path, but those were nothing compared to the head injuries. They didn't seem to really pay much attention to what or where they hit, as long as it caused her pain and messed her up enough to affect Ichigo.

And then someone must have paused in their attack, because she heard a panicked yell. "_Someone's coming!"_

They scattered like flies, pushing each other aside as they fled from the scene. There was a desperate need to escape; many of them couldn't be caught up in another heinous crime such as this. That didn't discourage everyone, though.

Before fleeing, Karin felt someone grab her limp body from the ground roughly by the arm. Her head lolled against her neck, as she was too weak to muster the strength to support it. Her eyes fluttered with her fight to keep them open, and her breathing was dangerously ragged as she fought the strong wave of nausea that passed through her stomach. And then the man threw her aside roughly, where she slammed into a wall on her back. She felt a sharp pain on the back of her head, almost as if it was ripping open. As she slid down to the ground, there was a stream of blood that followed her, plastered on the bricks and pooling on the pavement. And then she collapsed.

The memories that followed were a stream of light and dark as she fell in and out of consciousness; a neighbor dropped her groceries when she found Karin's bloody body collapsed on the ground; the ambulance flashed red and blue as they rushed her to the hospital; her heart monitor beeped unsteadily as doctors worked over her fragile body. And then, there was nothing but black for a long time.

Days later, when she woke again, the world was silent.

**.. ღ ..**

He is quiet after she finishes her tale, a wave of both terror and uncontrolled rage rolling through him. He can almost see it, the frightened expression on Karin's face when she had first awakened to realize that she would never hear anything ever again. Just the image itself, no matter how accurate it may be, fuels him with a passion to beat those bastards within an inch of their life until they beg him for mercy. And he's not sure he would give it to them.

"There were lots of cuts and bruises," she carries on, unaware of his inner turmoil as she battles her own, "but the head injuries were the worst, the doctors said. It was so bad that I was in a coma for a few hours, and when I woke up, I couldn't hear anything. Traumatic auditory nerve damage, they called it – difficult to treat, if at all. And that was that."

The silence between them is so loud when she pauses for the first time. He can't even begin to comprehend the emotions that must be toiling inside of her right now, harsh and unrelenting as they remind her of her troubled past. She had been through too much at that young age.

"I got kind of depressed for a while, too," she tells him bitterly. "I dropped out of track and I refused to go to school, so Otou-san had to home-school me. And I stopped talking as much, or doing the things that I used to.

"Ichi-nii blamed himself. I guess I can understand why, though I kept telling him it wasn't his fault those guys just couldn't let go of stupid things. I think he was more depressed than me." She huffs slightly, reminiscing the memories she usually suppresses. "Rukia-nee was good for him, though. She was the sign language teacher for both of us, and really helped him in ways that none of us could; teaching him how to cope, convincing him that it wasn't completely his fault and he shouldn't blame himself, and...well, basically kicking some sense into him. With her around, he got a lot better, and it helped me get better, too."

And then, finally, she looks up at him. There are many things he had expected to see in her eyes, had steeled himself for; anger, depression, anxiety, grief. But he's thrown off by the sheer amount of _guilt _on her face.

"That's why he's so overprotective of me," she explains, almost sheepishly. "Even after all these yeas, he still hasn't completely forgiven himself for what happened to me. He gets suspicious of anyone who gets close to me, and well, you're the only one who's stuck around so long. And that makes him afraid that I'll get hurt again." Her eyes flash with determination, pleading for him to understand the dynamics of her broken family. "I'm sorry, Toushiro. I know he didn't really give you a fair chance, but try to understand things from his point of view. He can't help it that he's so distrusting of you. I don't think he'll _ever _get past it."

Once again, he's quiet after she finishes her story. Absentmindedly, he begins to stroke her bare arm as he mulls over everything he had just learned about his girlfriend. These are things he's wanted to know since the very beginning, inquiries that had been present in the back of his mind since he had first met her. He remembers feeling betrayed that she had never thought to share with him like he had shared with her, and he remembers the fear that had engulfed him tonight, when he had realized he was about to finally learn of her secrets. And now it makes sense. Their relationship, this story, these feelings – they've all been leading up to this moment.

It feels like a test. Even if no one's lives would change except for theirs, even if the world would not end based on his decision, the weight of his answer still rests on his shoulders. After months of being with her, it's finally time to decide whether he can truly ever commit to this amazing woman beside him. And all he can think about is her brother.

He thinks back to the night of the wedding, when Ichigo had spoiled their moment by knocking on the car window, and back to the restaurant, when he had claimed Karin as his. Those had all been moments when a guilt-ridden, protective older brother had wanted nothing more than to keep his sister safe and happy. And Toushiro, as impossible as it would have seemed months ago, finally understands Ichigo. His previous irritation flies away as he realizes, hell, he _agrees _with the Kurosaki and his possessive ways.

And it's not just Ichigo. He thinks back to his conversations with Isshin and Rukia, who had acted like proud parents sending their daughter away for marriage. Even sweet little Yuzu had taken the initiative to sandwich him into a couch, keeping him away from her sister until he had deemed himself worthy. All he knows is that he feels nothing but pride at being a part of their shared goal; he only wants to make Karin happier than she had ever thought she could be.

Karin is lost in thought again, expressionless as she gazes out the window. Her gaze is dead, and immediately, he realizes that she's bottling up her feelings once again. She must be afraid of rejection, as anyone would be after sharing such a deep part of themselves with another. It's a terribly endearing realization that he plays a big enough part in her life that she fears losing him. He squeezes her frame more tightly against his to call for her attention, and when she looks up, both fearful _and _hopeful, he flashes her a small grin.

"Was this just your long, roundabout way of telling me that we'll have to deal with your brother always hanging over our heads?" he teases.

She takes a moment to register this, before beaming up at him. "Is that too much of a problem?"

_'You could never be a problem,' _he thinks to himself, gazing down at this woman he has fallen in love with so easily – the woman he knows he could never fall _out _of love with. Shaking his head, he kisses her gently and tucks a loose strand of her hair behind her ears.

"Of course not," he replies softly. "I promise, I will _always_ be here."

* * *

><p><strong>I decided to take notes from <em>Armistice <em>to tell Karin's story. I just felt that narrating the scene myself, and in past tense as well, would be more effective than if Karin told the whole scene herself. First person writing has never seemed that powerful to me, and I think it's my weak point, so I felt you guys deserved stronger writing after waiting for this for so long.**

**Updating _An Unexpected Suitor _is next on my list, but since the next chapter for this story is already halfway completed, I'm thinking about just finishing this first. What do you guys think?**

**And, one more question. **How would you guys feel about an IchiRuki side-story to this?** I've been thinking about it for a **_**long **_**time, and I have parts of it already written. It just seemed to me that their story seemed rather interesting, but it never gets told; plus, I've never written just IchiRuki before, and I want to try. I know not everyone is a fan of that pairing, but you wouldn't have to read it if worried about missing a HitsuKarin moment, since it focuses solely on them. I **_**would **_**publish it separately, but I'm writing it in a way that you would have to have read this story first.**


	10. Chapter 10

**A special thanks to the person who left me my one-hundredth review! It was an anonymous reviewer, "Guest," so sadly I can't thank you _personally. _But I'm sure you know who you are, so THANK YOU! :D**

**Well, we're finally here, guys – the end. Just to warn you, I do a bit of time-skipping in this chapter. I tried my best to make it clear just how much time has passed, usually by using Karin's schooling, so I don't think it should be _too _hard to make sense of it. Well, enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any of its characters.**

* * *

><p>Toushiro walks briskly through the crowds, side-stepping several people in his way and mumbling apologies when he is not quick enough. Some shoot him irritated looks as they exaggeratedly brush themselves off, but he doesn't spare them a backwards glance. He's in too much of a rush.<p>

_'Damn Matsumoto!' _he thinks furiously, definitely not for the first time in his life. She'd kept him so much longer than he had planned at their meeting that morning. No matter how important the content had been, or how much they had decided, he curses himself for not keeping a closer eye on the clock. _'I'm not gonna make it!' _he groans desperately, even as he turns into Karin's neighborhood.

He and his manager had eaten lunch at a restaurant nearby as they had discussed their life-changing decisions, and so he'd made plans to walk to Karin's home with plenty of time to spare. But Matsumoto had insisted on ordering practically every dessert on the menu, and since he had promised that he would treat her, that meant he was obligated to sit with her until she finished and he could pay. And if he really thinks about it, he's quite sure she'd done it with a mischievous smile on her face.

Finally, after dodging several of her neighbors and their pets, he slows down outside his girlfriend's family home, breathing heavily to calm his racing heart. Wiping his forehead impatiently, he rings the doorbell. Yuzu answers, and she shoots him a sympathetic smile.

"You...didn't make it," she admits softly, stepping aside to allow him entry. He does so with a groan; despite coming to terms with that on his way, he still can't help but feel a rush of disappointment. It might not have been of the utmost importance that he be here, but it's still something he had set his heart on, especially to properly support his girlfriend of three years.

"But she's still here," Yuzu offers helpfully, leading him into the kitchen. "And I know she understands."

"I'm sure she does," he agrees with a grimace. "But, still..."

They finally wander into the kitchen, where they find a group of people crowded around the table. From the doorway he can see Isshin sitting in one of the chairs, beaming proudly at everyone. Ichigo and Rukia are also part of the group, and they're deep in conversation with a red-headed man he's never met before. Their hands are clasped together tightly, as if they're afraid of letting go. For the first time, and just for the briefest moment, he wonders what their story is.

But his eyes are only for one person, and he finds her sitting across the table from her father, chin resting on a hand propped up by an elbow on the table. She looks over when they walk in, and her eyes narrow when she locks her gaze with his.

"So, you finally decided to show up, huh?" she booms loudly, and everyone in the area suddenly turns silent. He offers her a pained grimace, but it only makes her glare that much more heatedly. "_Kami. _Couldn't even find_ _one minute __to drop by and offer your girlfriend your congratulations, could you?"

Every head turns in his direction, wondering with extreme amusement what his answer will be. But he keeps his eyes on Karin, and the longer he looks, the easier it is for him to realize that she's clearly messing with him. (That small smile twitching on her lips, despite how hard she tries to fight it, is definitely one indication). So he marches over to where she's sitting and, disregarding her watching family, pecks her on the lips lightly.

"Congratulations," he signs, and she grins up at him in return.

It's miraculous how quickly the others seem to suddenly think of somewhere else they need to be. Isshin remembers some forms he needs to fill out for a patient, Yuzu needs to look over the monthly finances for the bakery she works at, and Rukia just gets a sudden urge to find a computer and show their friend – Renji is his name – the apartment she and Ichigo are thinking of purchasing. To her credit, she also forcefully drags her boyfriend away before he can protest to leaving the two alone.

"And we didn't even have to _leave _a hint," Karin muses with humor in her voice once they're alone. "They must really like you, Toushiro."

"That's always good to know about a girlfriend's family," he jokes, pulling up a chair beside her. She simply grins at his attempt.

"Look. We saved you some cake," she tells him. There is indeed a very large cake sitting in the center of the table, and she reaches for a bowl she had already cut a slice into and hands it to him. As he accepts it, she makes a face.

"They're blowing all this out of proportion," she complains. "I only completed my undergraduate work. I still have law school to go, but they still felt the need to get me a cake. This isn't even the first celebration I'm going to have, since Kiyone also wants to take me out, and her sister will probably tag along, too."

"This _is _a big deal, though," he counters, setting down his slice of cake. "You know how hard it is to even get_ _into __college here. And now you're one step closer to achieving your goal of becoming a lawyer."

"I guess," she relents with a sigh. Her hand slides from under her chin to her cheek, and she smiles at him softly. "Oh, yeah. We just keep talking about me, but you have some pretty big news, too, don't you? What did you and Matsumoto decide on?"

He freezes at the question, much to Karin's confusion. With a sigh, he runs a hand through his hair and sets the bowl down on the table. The words are particularly hard to get out. This will be the first time he will say them out loud, and he's almost afraid to, because it's like accepting his fate. But he knows there's nothing anyone can do to change it now, so he steels himself for the words is about to say. At least the first time he says them, they will be for Karin.

"We decided that...I'm not going to be a pianist anymore."

Karin's hand slips from her cheek, and she catches herself an instant before her head collides with the tabletop. Silence hangs in the kitchen after that statement. Toushiro keeps his hardened eyes on the cake, drumming his fingers against the bowl. And then, finally, she breaks through the quiet.

_"What!"_

He sighs, more from his own resignation than anything, but can't bring himself to say anything more. He doesn't have to, though, because Karin begins spluttering broken sentences at the shocking news.

"Y-you're going to...You can't! I-I mean, you only _just _fell in love with the piano again_. _This isn't_ _fair! __You shouldn't have to..." She trails off helplessly, unsure of what words to use but unable to just stay silent. He smiles over at her sadly, touched by her attempt at comfort but still overcome with a sense of loss. Finally, in her desperation, she yells out, "You can't let that bastard Ayane__ _win!"___

He can't help it; her words make him laugh, despite the seriousness of the situation. She looks so scandalized by his decision, and buried deep under all those emotions, he can also make out an inkling of sympathy. If it had been anyone else, it would have only sparked his anger, but he understands just how important his music is to _her, _too. If there's one thing he regrets about this inevitable decision, it's how badly this is sure to affect her.

"We had to face facts, Karin," he finally explains, eyeing her encouragingly. "I haven't received any new jobs in a long time, and we realized that it could very well be years until I do. I can't just go my whole life waiting for some opportunity that might never arrive again." He drops his hands to take hers in his hold, prompting her to look at him. "It's all right, Karin," he reassures her. "It's not as if playing the piano is all I know. It's just what I've known the longest."

"But you didn't do anything wrong," she mumbles. "You were only doing what was right."

"I know that," he replies gently. "That's why I have no regrets about leaving the piano this way."

She still looks as if she wants to protest his choice, but he sends her a pointed look, asking her not to. This is hard enough without having to go through the guilt of causing _her _pain, too. So she relents hesitantly, backing away for the moment after sensing his rigid feelings. They let silence hang in the air once again, until Karin decides she's too curious.

"Well, what's the plan, then?" she finally asks him, tucking her fist under the chin again and leaning towards him.

He shrugs, and though it would have seemed an apathetic gesture, she can tell it's the exact opposite. In his eyes is a faraway look as he gazes at some future that has yet to happen, but was only built because he let go of the past.

Then again, he only _did _just rediscover his love for the piano again, and he would never put all of Karin's efforts to waste.

"Who knows?" he replies, but flashes her a reassuring smile. "But, just so you know, I'm not ready to let go of music just yet."

****.. ღ ..****

A motorbike pulls up outside _Otoribashi Records, _and it roars menacingly right before the driver pulls up in a parking space and switches it off. Swinging her leg around the seat, she grabs her black helmet and tugs it off her head, shaking her hair down. Leaning the protective gear against her hip, she stalks to the front door of the enormous building, her steps quick and impatient.

A receptionist at the front desk looks up when she enters, flashing a grin at the familiar face. "I presume you're here to see Hitsugaya-san?" At her nod, the woman shuffles through the papers on her desk. "He should be in studio three today."

"Thanks!" With a grateful smile, she waves to the receptionist and scurries off to studio three.

When she creaks open the door to the right room, she finds Toushiro seated inside. He's pouring over a dashboard of buttons and switches and levers, a thoughtful expression on his face. Beyond him, past the big, glass window, Hisagi and Sado are seated on stools in the next room, guitars perched in each of their hands. They strum a few strings while she slips inside.

"This a bad time?" she whispers, shutting the door behind her quietly. Toushiro looks over immediately, his expression softening at the sight of her.

"Of course not," he signs, waving her over. She gladly takes the empty chair next to his, kicking the ground to spin the seat as her boyfriend presses a button and leans into a microphone. "Uh, fellas? Why don't you take a lunch break for now?"

Both men in the other room readily set their guitars against their stools and head for the door. They jerk their heads at Karin as they stride past, and she nods in return before they leave the two of them alone together.

"How's the composer life treating you?" Karin asks, setting her helmet down. It's the same question she wants to know every time she visits, but rather than teasing him, he knows it's a genuine inquiry. He knows that she worries for his happiness now that he's left the piano.

"As good as always," he assures her, and she relaxes.

He _had _gone through a rough patch for the first few months, constantly double guessing his decision. After all, this has been very different than falling out of love with his music, like when they had first met. This time, despite his attempts to reconnect with the instrument and those who enjoy it, circumstances prevented him from doing what he loved. It had been an upsetting experience, and he had to put his practiced control to good use many times.

He'd held a public interview to officially announce his decision, and the reporters that had flocked had been shocked, to say the least. Many had claimed to be fans themselves. But there _were _some who reported that they had seen this coming, as his career had apparently been dwindling for quite a few years now. Some clever journalists had even made a connection between him and_ _Ayane Records_, _creating theories on their possible fallout since the owner so obviously did not support the pianist.

He hadn't exactly jump right into the job hunt, either. Hitsugaya had never been poor by any definition of the word. He'd been a musical prodigy since young, performing in famous theaters for rich audiences for years. That money meant that he could be secure for a long time, so he knew that choosing to quit the piano would affect nothing more than his toiling emotions.

And then, only months after, an old classmate of his from college, Rose, had contacted him with a brewing scheme in mind. Rose had watched his interview as well, and just like thousands of others, he'd been surprised by the sudden announcement. Hitsugaya, after all, had been one of the most talented musicians in their classes, and many had predicted that he would go far in life. To think that his career would just abruptly _end _this way – it had been most unsettling. But he had an offer in mind that would bring the retired pianist right back into the music industry.

"I'm starting my own record company," he'd explained over the phone, and Toushiro had raised both eyebrows in interest. "I just left the one I used to work for; they had nothing more to teach me, and I decided that I could run my own now."

"What does this have to do with _me?" _he'd asked in confusion, even as Karin and Matsumoto, who'd been on either side of him on his couch, had leaned in and waited with anticipation.

"Well, during your piano career, you were well known for writing your own compositions," Rose had gone on. "Some might even say they're the reason why you were so famous. The reason why I'm calling you today is because I would like to ask you to become one of the composers for my company, and possibly help make it a success."

He hadn't even properly registered the request before Matsumoto grabbed the phone from his hand and screeched into it, "_Yes! _He definitely says yes!"

He'd snatched the phone back angrily and instead assured his old classmate that he would think over the offer, but in the end, it didn't take long for him to begin work at _Otoribashi Records _as its first composer. He spends his time making musical scores for new artists to play, and as it's not much different than writing music for himself and playing it on the piano, he enjoys the work fairly well enough. It easily fits into his life.

To Karin, it means that she can still enjoy his music, even if it's played by someone else.

"Hey, do you want to go grab some lunch, too?" she asks cheerfully, jumping off the chair and patting her thighs to brush off imaginary dust. "I was thinking we could go to Ikeda's, since it's not far from here."

"I was actually planning to take you there for dinner," he tells her, setting down his pair of headphones and following her to the door. "He asked me to play again this evening, so I thought I could take you with me."

Ikeda had quickly become one of their close acquaintances since the first time he had performed there, despite Matsumoto's rampage about her boss refusing money for his recital. Toushiro had paid for all the damages, of course, and the older man had taken everything with humor. Not soon after Toushiro's public announcement, he'd contacted the pianist and offered his restaurant's piano anytime he wanted to play.

"Any man who plays as passionately as you played could never quit and not miss the piano," he had reprimanded the musician. "If you ever want to play, my piano's open. Of course, you'd be giving my customers a show, but I'd be more than willing to pay you." He'd ended with a warm laugh.

Toushiro had taken him up on that offer. It's thrilling to know that he can still put on performances for others, even after giving up on that part of his life. Normally, he would have refused taking money from the kind man for such a thing, especially as he has another solid source of income now, but Ikeda had insisted. After all, his restaurant had become _extremely _popular since people learned it was the one place they could still listen to Hitsugaya Toushiro, retired music prodigy, play his famous pieces.

"Great!" Karin exclaims. "I haven't seen him in a long time."

"I just played there last week, and you were there with me then, too," he corrects her pointedly. She simply shrugs playfully, and he shakes his head at her actions before a thought pops into his head. "Oh, yeah. Is there any specific reason you came to see me today?"

She takes a moment to ponder over it, momentarily confused by the sudden change in the conversation, before she gasps and her face lights up. To his amusement, she starts slapping his arm in excitement, unable to get the words out.

"You'll never believe what happened today!" she finally manages. "Ukitake-san and I had breakfast this morning."

"Ukitake-san?" he asks in shock, and she pauses her story to childishly glare at him for interrupting. He holds up his hands as an apology.

"_Anyway, _me and Ukitake-san were having breakfast," she continues. "He just showed up and said he wanted to treat me, so I thought, why not? Well, we had the food – which was_ _great, __by the way, since he's so rich and all – and then he told me some__ _amazing ___news! He told me..." She pauses for dramatic effect, and then takes a deep breath. "His company wants to hire me!"

He gapes at her and the unexpected news. "W-what?"

She beams, her cheeks flushed with happiness. "Yeah. Remember how when we were in New York, they were all joking about hiring me one day?" He nods, thinking back to that party. "Well, Ukitake-san said that they actually started looking at my grades, and they were so happy with them, they want to offer me a position in their company after I graduate next year!"

"That's..._excellent," _he says, wrapping an arm over her shoulders. "Congratulations."

She grins up at him, her smile so much wider after finally telling someone. She'd just been bursting with excitement since Ukitake had first told her the good news, and much to the man's horror, she'd almost choked on her drink from surprise. After a few thumps to the back and loud coughs, she'd finally calmed down enough to smile his way and express her gratitude.

"So, that's why I wanted to take you out now," Karin teases her boyfriend. "To celebrate."

It's while he's playfully squeezing her shoulders against himself that he hears the sounds of heels clicking down the hall, heading closer to them with each step. Just by the familiar sound, he can venture a guess as to who the person could be before she even rounds the hall, and sure enough, Harumi-san runs into them a moment later.

"Oh!" she cries in surprise at the sight of them, placing a few delicate fingers against her bright red lips. "Hitsugaya-san, you surprised me! I didn't see you there."

Karin eyes her critically, put off immediately by the bright clothes and heavy makeup. Even underneath all that, though, she can see this person is actually a genuinely beautiful person. And judging by the thick folders tucked in her hands, she most likely works at the record company, too. _And _she and Toushiro seem to know one another.

While she appraises her, Harumi-san does the same to her. Her eyes roam over the baggy clothes and unstyled hair, and her lip girls in contempt. She clearly sees herself as the more superior of the two, at least in matters of beauty.

"Karin, this is Harumi-san," Toushiro introduces, and the woman raises an eyebrow at his hand movements. "She works here as a songwriter. And Harumi-san, this is Karin, my..." He trails off, assuming their relationship is rather obvious by the way he has an arm draped around her. Harumi clearly sees it, because her eyes narrow at their close proximity.

In the next moment, she smiles prettily. "Well, it was nice meeting you, but I should get going. Lots of work to be done! And you, Hitsugaya-san, don't forget that you have a meeting today."

He groans at the reminder, having forgotten about it some time this morning. Harumi laughs at his reaction, and after throwing a look in Karin's direction, she places a hand on his shoulder – clearly an intimate gesture. Karin glares at it, receiving the message the writer is trying to send her. Their eyes meet, one smug and the other outraged, and she can see the challenge written plainly across Harumi's face.

There's no thought of decorum in her mind. Instead, she yanks Toushiro to herself, pulling him away from the offending hand, and leans towards the woman to growl dangerously, "_Back off, _bitch."

"Karin!" Toushiro gasps in shock, even as Harumi recoils abruptly. It's obvious she's just itching to retaliate with something even nastier, but with the object of her affections standing before her, she doesn't dare. Instead, to save face, she just shoots Karin a nasty look and stalks off down the hall.

"What was _that _about?" her boyfriend demands once they're alone, shocked at the animosity between the two. He'd known the two wouldn't become best friends by any means, but he certainly hadn't expected such a reaction.

"Oh, come on, Toushiro!" Karin hisses, rounding on him. "Are you _blind? _She was clearly coming onto you, and you just stood there and_ _let her. __It was so obvious with the way she was acting that she – Hey, wipe that smile off your face!"

He can't help it, though, as he realizes the true meaning behind her words. "Karin, were you _jealous?"_

"It's allowed," she instantly defends herself, glaring at him. "Honestly, with all the women that get crushes on you, I once really considered shaving off all you hair while you were sleeping."

He grimaces, exceedingly grateful that she had decided against that urge. No one would ever take him seriously, otherwise.

"You're really that bothered by it?" he asks incredulously. Of course, he's flattered and oddly touched that she would even feel strongly enough about this; Karin has never been the type to envy another, after all, because she's always believed in respecting what she has and what she's earned. "You know I don't think of anyone else like I think of you."

"It's your fault, anyway, for being so clueless," she snaps with a huff. Even so, she looks up at him weakly at his words, suddenly feeling ridiculous for that little bout of rage when she knows how loyal her boyfriend has always been. Noticing how ashamed she looks, he immediately brings her closer to his side.

"You have absolutely nothing to worry about," he assures her, and then smirks, leading her towards the parking lot by the waist. _'I only want to spend the rest of my life with _you_, _after all.'__

As they head off to lunch together, he thinks back to that special ring he'd bought for her a long time ago, and wonders if today might just be the day he finally gives it to her.

****_**.. ღ ..**_****

_Years Later._

Karin sighs as she finally steps into her home, tossing her keys on a nearby table and kicking off her shoes. After unbuttoning her blazer, she wanders into her bedroom, planning to change after a day at work. On her bed, however, she finds her husband, who looks over as she enters and returns her smile.

"I'm home," she mutters, and he returns the greeting with the customary, "Welcome back."

Tossing her blazer onto her pillow, she shuffles around the bed to plant a kiss on his lips briefly. Pulling open their closet, she shuffles through it until she finds a nice sundress to wear for the rest of the day; she might had detested them only years prior, but it's gotten exceedingly hot outside with the approach of summer, and even Karin can mature after all this time.

Toushiro watches as she unbuttons her blouse and tosses it onto the bed, as well as unzipping her skirt and letting it fall to the ground. The dress goes on afterwards, and it's only after she's finished throwing her work clothes into the laundry basket that she turns back to him and asks, "Where are the kids?"

"Playing outside with the neighbors," he answers, and both head out to the living room. "They said they would finish their homework after dinner tonight."

The Hitsugaya household is a representation of both Karin and Toushiro. There are enough pictures covering the wall that they emit a warm atmosphere, but the house is bare enough decoration wise that it speaks of simple tastes. Each room has some form of a cluttered mess littering the floors, yet it seems like an _organized _mess; nothing gets in the way of anything else, as if everyone had been wary of the controlled order of the house.

And in the corner of the living room rests a black, polished piano, acting as a testament to the family's musical underlining.

"How was work?" Karin asks her husband even as she makes her way to the instrument. She sits on the bench facing away from the keys, placing her hands on the glossy seat to lean back and gaze at him expectantly.

"Same as always," he answers with a shrug. Karin, however, scowls at the anwer.

"Is _Harumi _still hitting on you?" she sneers, and her mood instantly darkens at his lack of response. The woman still could not let her husband go, despite the years it's been since the Hitsugaya marriage.

Feeling the atmosphere turn foul, Toushiro rolls his eyes at his wife. "It's been years, Karin. You need to let that go. We hardly even talk anymore, aside from greeting each other in the hallways."

"Good," she spits out, feeling her lower lip stick out. "Let's keep it that way."

"Yes, yes," he deadpans just to appease her, but it seems to cheer her up regardless. At the very least, she stops scowling so heavily, and instead spins on the bench to face the instrument behind her.

She presses down on the piano keys, playing up a scale that she cannot hear. With an expectant pat on the space of the bench beside her, she tempts him over. He crumbles and settles in beside her, and with a smirk, he takes over her melody by playing his own random, nonsensical keys for her. As he drapes his other arm around her waist, she leans against the side of his body and gets comfortable. A hand crawls up to his chest to settle down in the middle, and she sighs in contentment, eliciting a grin as he gazes down at her softly.

"You know you can't resist me," she teases up at him.

"Well, I married you," he jokes, and she scoffs, rolling her eyes and ducking her head out from under his arm to give him a proper view of the action.

"But I refused the first time, didn't I?" she reminds him with a mischievous grin. When he had first presented her with that glittering, beautiful ring, she'd taken one look at the overconfident look on his face and flat out refused, secretly snickering when his face fell. However, she'd leaned forward immediately after to attack his lips, assuring him that the two were still a loving couple despite her answer. After that, he'd obviously gotten fidgety about bringing marriage up again, much to her amusement, and it had taken another half of a year for him to finally find the courage to propose again. "And you still came crawling back for me," she finishes with a lick of her lips.

He grimaces as he remembers, feeling that drastic drop in his self confidence firsthand even now. "I still think you only said no just because you thought my reaction would be funny," he rightly accuses her with narrowed eyes, and she looks up at him innocently. After so many years together and all the challenges they have faced, he knows her amazingly well.

"Just play me a song," she commands rather than addressing his accusation. In fact, she always ignores this conversation altogether whenever he comes too close to discovering the truth, aware that if she actually confirmed his suspicions, he would grouse about it for weeks. Just as he knows her, she knows him perfectly, too.

He shrugs, letting the matter drop for now as he always does when she wants to change the subject. The last thing he would want is for his own wife to grow uncomfortable around him.

"Any requests?" he asks, already shifting his hand to the first keys in the melody he suspects she will ask for. And his guess is correct, as always.

"How about the one for our little fighter over here?" she suggests tenderly, patting at her still rather flat stomach and softly smiling down at it. He does the same as he turns back to the keys, immediately replacing his nonsensical playing for a slow, light-hearted rhythm. It's a tradition in their home that when a new baby is on the way, he writes their new son or daughter a piece just for them, and then every evening, he will play it to Karin's abdomen so the baby may hear it and grow strong; after all, they say music is wonderful for a yet-to-be-born.

Karin leans against his shoulder and continues rubbing her stomach. She is not showing as of yet, but the two are already ecstatic for the baby's arrival, despite this being their third time already. She sighs pleasantly as the song comes to an end, and he swerves on the bench to face her again.

"Do you think the baby enjoyed it?" he asks.

"I think the baby adored it," she reassures him.

With the most breathtaking upwards twitch of his lips, he cups her chin in his large hand and guides her forward, planting his mouth on hers. The two kiss slowly, gently, always treasuring these moments they have. They've only just gotten lost in one another when he hears a door slam, and two _very _loud voices ring out across the house.

"You cheated!"

"I _did not. _You just suck."

"Nuh-_uh._"

"Yuh-_huh._"

"Nuh – look!"

"_Ewww..._"

He cracks open one eye to scour the area and finds his and Karin's look-alikes standing in the doorway, staring up at them in disgust yet awe. While her brother flounders over where to look, his young daughter meets his eyes.

"Otou-san, why're you eating Okaa-san's face?" she asks, blinking up at him confusion as he looks at her sheepishly.

Her older brother nudges her, snickering. "He's _kissing _her, _stupid_," he sneers.

Her face goes red with anger. "I'm _not stupid!_" she screams at him.

Karin, who has her eyes closed and is completely unaware of the spectacle their audience is making, grabs his shirt and pulls him closer, kissing him hotly now. He returns the gesture, though both his eyes are open now and almost glaring at his children. When they meet his gaze once again, he makes a zipping motion next to his mouth and gestures towards the door. His son and daughter giggle and nod and run out, giving them privacy. And Karin – who is none the wiser – spends a blissful ten minutes kissing her all-too-willing husband.

**.. ღ ..**

"Otou-san, dinner time!"

He looks up from his desk to find a beaming Mizuki leaning over the desk, a doll clutched in her hand. She has Karin's beautiful blue eyes, and just as it is with his wife, he can't resist them. With a sigh, he immediately pulls off his reading glasses and rubs his weary eyes before standing up out of his chair.

"All right," he says, taking his daughter's hand. She skips along happily as they exit the study, closing the door behind them. "Did you help Okaa-san today?"

She shakes her head as she skips along with his steps. "Kei did. They made espegotti," she tells him in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Spaghetti," he corrects her, trying hard not to chuckle at her childish language.

"Right." She nods solemnly in agreement. "Espegotti."

They make it to the dining room, and he doesn't bother to correct her this time. Instead, he tucks her into a chair, and then helps her settle her doll into the seat beside her. He can hear sounds coming from the kitchen and smells something wonderful wafting through the air; not long before their wedding day, Karin had finally sucked up her pride and had her sister teach her how to cook, despite his insistence that he doesn't mind handling the kitchen. It took many tries and brave swallowing on his part, but now she has an acceptable technique with food.

He ruffles Mizuki's hair before he seats himself opposite her at the table. She giggles, squealing in protest and combing through her hair. Karin and Kei emerge from the kitchen, then, and each set a plate at the table. As they seat themselves, they continue signing rapidly together and laugh contently every now and then. The sight warms his heart.

There had been a time, when he and Karin had first learned they would be expecting their first child, when she had feared so greatly that her own children would never accept her.

"I'm different, Toushiro," she had voiced to him one evening. His strong, brave, confident Karin had a tremor in her voice. "What if they can't accept that?" she had whispered. "What if they ask me _why? _What am I supposed to tell them? And what if they think I'm weird?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Karin," he had told her sternly. There had been no way he was going to be gentle with her when she had been acting so absurd. "If that's the opinion you have of our kids before they're even born, then how are we ever going to raise them right?"

It had been sort of funny that _he'd _had to be the voice of reason during their pregnancy. _Him,_ who had never once even _considered _in all of his years the possibility of having a child of his own one day. But Karin had been weak, especially with the pregnancy weighing her down, so reassuring her had been his job.

Of course, when Kei had been born a couple months later – healthy, pink, and the most adorable thing either of them had ever seen – any thoughts of her fears had flown straight out of her mind, replaced instead with a childish awe that had been apparent on her face as she held their son for the first time. He'd been tiny and red and precious, and looking around at all the other new, proud mothers on their hospital floor, it had been obvious that she wasn't so different. So what if she couldn't hear his soft breathing? His first coo? His first words? She had a baby of her own now, and just the thought that he would _have _those experiences had been enough to placate her.

And the biggest upside had been that she hadn't had to listen to Isshin's incessant _bawling_, though her cheeks had still tinted red as all the nurses and patients had looked their way curiously.

Kei had been absolutely _wonderful _growing up. He'd never once looked at his mother strangely, never recoiled at her touch, never voiced any dissatisfaction. He'd been a little boy, after all, and all that had mattered was that she was always taking care of him and he loved her for it. He'd picked up on sign language remarkably quickly, and there had never been a language barrier between mother and son after that.

When Mizuki had come along a couple of years later, things had been different. Not entirely in a _bad _way, but there had been times when she'd been too curious for her own good, and the question had inevitably crossed her lips.

"Why can't Okaa-san hear what I'm saying?" she'd asked one warm evening, clutching her doll and looking up at them innocently. Both he and Karin had frozen for a moment, but with an amused smile, Karin had placed her hands on her knees and bent down to talk to her daughter.

"Because, sweetheart," she'd explained pointedly, "Okaa-san's just a little different from other Okaa-san's out there. She's just so great, she doesn't even _need _to hear to know when her little girl's tummy is making funny growls."

Mizuki had blushed and crossed her arms over her stomach defensively, looking over at their cooking dinner longingly. Kei had stomped over, then, and jabbed at her forehead.

"_Duh_," he'd exclaimed. "She's _special, stupid_."

"I'm not _stupid!_"

"Yeah, you are. And you're a baby." He'd made a face at her.

"_I'm not a baby!_"

And the family had just waved off the question without further discussion. But the kids had become rather..._defensive _of their mother after that. Toushiro instantly began to note how they acted so different when they went out; Kei would run ahead of Karin and keep a wary eye on everything, as if making sure the path was safe for her, and Mizuki would slip a hand in hers and stick a thumb in her mouth, glaring viciously at anyone who so much as _looked _at them funny. Toushiro couldn't help but think they'd inherited that from him.

Of course, there hadn't really been a need to go to such extremes. The Hitsugaya family was well acquainted with the neighborhood, particularly those families with small children. Many knew of Karin's disability, but she handled it so well that one could hardly remember she had one. But then, one day, something _had _occurred.

The children had a special event at their elementary school, and both Karin and Toushiro took time off of work to go. So, the family had immersed themselves in the day's activities, bonding with one another and talking with other families – though Toushiro had settled for aloofly observing and watching over his wife from under the shade of a large tree with his arms crossed. Kei had proudly joined him until the pull of a nearby soccer game with the other boys had been too great and lured him away.

Mizuki stuck close to her mother throughout the day, and she'd been playing happily in the school's sandbox when Karin had turned her back to talk to some of the other mothers who'd caught her attention. But once she'd turned away, a little boy in Mizuki's class had made a beeline straight for the girl. With a mischievous grin, he'd kicked at the pile of sand she had gathered.

"Hey!" Mizuki had protested as dust flew everywhere. Angry, she'd gotten to her feet and placed her hands on her hips, administrating the famous Hitsugaya scowl on him. "Whatcha do _that _for?"

"Only babies play in the sandbox," he'd taunted her. The remark had hit a little too close to home, reminding her of her brother, and she'd stomped her foot.

"I am not a baby!"

"Yeah, you are," he'd countered, enjoying the strong reaction, and pointed a finger at her accusingly. "And your mom's _weird._"

Kei, who'd looked over at his sister's yell, frowned and abandoned his game, running over to them to stand behind Mizuki.

"No, she's not," Mizuki had defended Karin.

"Yeah, she is," the boy had insisted with a smirk. "I mean, she can't _hear._" But his obnoxious laughter had been cut clear off when both Mizuki and Kei had pushed him roughly, causing him to fall to the ground and blink up at them in fear. They'd stood side by side with their arms crossed, towering over him together.

"_What of it?_" they'd demanded with harsh snarls. Rather than answer, the little boy's lips had puckered, and he'd started sniffling and crying and ran off to hug his mother.

And though a clueless Karin had scolded them furiously for acting in such a manner, Toushiro had never been more proud of his children.

**.. ღ ..**

The doorbell rings halfway through their dinner, and Mizuki jumps from her chair in excitement.

"I'll get it," she screeches, running for the door with Toushiro chasing after her wearily. She's still at that age when every new thing is as exciting as your birthday; the phone ringing delights her just as much. With a skip to her step, she cheerfully stands on the tips of her toes, cups the doorknob with both hands to turn it, and pulls it to her chest with all of her might. Her face lights up when she catches sight of their mysterious guest standing at the other side of the doorway.

"Hello, hello!" she cries happily, even going as far as to wave with both hands even though she has no idea who the person is.

_He _does. He remembers this face so clearly that it might have just been yesterday that he had wanted to _spit _in it. It takes only but _seconds _for the blinding fury to start coursing through his system, conveyed through the frosty glare of his eyes.

"Hitsugaya-san," his frighteningly familiar visitor greets him, bowing just slightly. "Good evening. I'm sorry to disturb you so late, but I was hoping that we could perhaps talk?"

He says nothing, but that cold-blooded murderous intent in his eyes doubles, and the tense atmosphere thickens.

"Otou-san, Otou-san!" Mizuki pipes up just then, grabbing onto his legs and jumping up and down. She points to the man, gazing up at her father with large and innocent, doe-like eyes. "Do you know him?"

"It's rude to point, Mizuki," he reprimands her, finally tearing his eyes away and letting his gaze soften as he looks down at his daughter. She immediately drops her hand with an ashamed pout on her face. "Why don't you go back to the dinner table?" he suggests gently. "Your food is getting cold."

"But -"

"No buts," he cuts across her, and though she whines and stomps her foot, she still runs off and does what she was told.

"She's lovely," his guest offers, and Toushiro's eyes harden as he looks back up and nods stiffly in acknowledgement. "So," he continues on, looking hopeful, "could we talk for a bit?"

"...Of course," Hitsugaya finally replies icily, stepping aside to allow the man entry, and he sighs in relief as he rushes inside.

"I know it's been quite a few years," he continues, taking off his shoes and following Hitsugaya to the living room, "but I'm hoping you still remember me?"

"Of course," Hitsugaya says again coldly, his expression stony and particularly unwelcoming. "I could never forget you, Ayane Kazuhiro."

**.. ღ ..**

"What's wrong, Mizuki?" Karin asks with a chuckle as her daughter plops down in her chair, looking miffed about something or other. She's always had a tendency to want her way no matter what; Toushiro has always said she gets it from her.

"Otou-san won't let me meet his friend," she complains, picking at her food angrily. "He made me leave."

Karin looks at her in surprise. Toushiro has never pushed her away before, always so proud of her desire to explore and learn. Not to mention, he spoils her at any chance he gets. Something must have been wrong for him to act in such a way, and given the fact that he has yet to return to the table, she assumes it has something to do with their visitor.

"You two finish your dinner," she orders her kids, standing up. "I'll be right back." She scurries into the living room once she hears light sounds from inside, worry etched onto her face. "Toushiro," she calls, rounding the corner, "who -"

She halts, her words faltering as her eyes land on the new arrival. "You!"

Kazuhiro has gone through many changes throughout the years, looking much more like a respectable man now. He's cut his shaggy hair into a style appropriate for an adult, and she notices that the stud he'd worn in his ear is no longer there. He's still wearing a suit like the first time they had met, but now it actually builds on his maturity rather than depicting him as an arrogant adolescent. But the biggest difference is his face; the cocky, challenging eyes are no longer present, and without his signature smirk, he looks much like a cool business man.

The atmosphere in the room, however, is extremely tense, with electricity sparking through the air. Her husband's face is twisted into an unpleasant scowl, his eyes narrowed on their uncomfortable guest sitting across from him. The man looks so relieved when she walks into the room, breaking the awkward silence.

"Ah, good evening," he says, inclining his head in respect. "It's nice to see you again, Kurosaki-san."

"It's Hitsugaya-san now," Toushiro corrects him immediately; they're the first words he has spoken since they sat down, and they're coated with a defensive tone.

Kazuhiro chuckles sheepishly. "Oh, of course. Your daughter," he remembers. "Well, congratulations."

Neither answers; Karin is still to surprised by his sudden appearance after all these years; Toushiro just purely despises his very being. Finally, he decides to break the silence, if only to ease the atmosphere.

"You're probably wondering why I'm here today," he guesses, chuckling uneasily. When Toushiro simply glares at him heatedly, he scratches the back of his neck and stumbles on. "Well, I have something very important I wanted to discuss with you."

"And you felt the need to disrupt my dinner with my family?" Toushiro hisses, just looking for something to chastise the man about. Karin clucks her tongue in disapproval at his hostility. He sends her an incredulous look, stunned that she could defend _this despicable man, _but she simply takes a seat beside him and places a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"What did you want to talk about, Ayane-san?" she asks calmly, and Toushiro marvels at this sudden change in his wife; she would have normally already let her spitfire personality loose on the man. Seeing how reserved she is, despite how strange he finds it, he begrudgingly prepares himself to sign the conversation to her.

"Uh, right," Kazuhiro stumbles, shooting Karin a quick, grateful glance. "Well, I know this must come as a shock to you after so many years, especially with all the changes you must have gone through beause of my father...and me," he adds on, looking slightly ashamed. Toushiro leans in, suddenly a lot more interested in where this is going. "So, first and foremost, I know this is _years _late, but I wanted to apologize to both of you for my terrible behavior that night we first met."

Toushiro opens his mouth furiously, but Karin cuts across him. "We accept your apology. Thank you, Ayane-san."

His smile grows by just a fraction at her answer, the relief apparent on both his face and sagging posture. "I knew you would be a forgiving person," he praises her softly, "especially after you helped me that night. I've never forgotten that."

"Is that all you came for?" Toushiro snaps, suddenly very aware that the man is smiling just a little _too _gently at his wife, and not liking it one bit. This must be how she feels about Harumi.

"Um, no. Actually, the apology was mostly just for my own conscience." He laughs sheepishly at the admittance before sobering up. "The truth is, I did a lot of horrible things when I was younger. I took my father's money for granted, I guess, and I used to think that I could do and say whatever I wanted. It would get me in a lot of trouble, like that fight we had, but since Otou-san would always buy me out of it, I kept on doing what I always did."

Both wife and husband purse their lips at this declaration, mentally making a note to _never _spoil their children too much, lest they end up like this man had.

"But I've grown up a lot since then," he continues, his face hardening into a serious expression. "My father retired a few years back and I was given control of the company in his place, and all that responsibility really helped me to mature and see the error of my ways."

"That's all good for you," Toushiro interrupts, "but what does this have to do with _us?"_

"Ah, right. Sorry." He fumbles with his hands, clearly still unpracticed with dealing with such uncomfortable situations. "Well, even with all the people I messed up, I always remembered you two. It wasn't that easy to forget you, really, since you were on TV a lot, and those cuts and bruises you gave me took weeks to heal. But when I saw that interview you held, where you announced that you were giving up the piano, I knew it had something to do with that incident." His face falls again. "I tried to appeal to Otou-san to help you out, but he wouldn't hear of it."

"I still don't see where this is going," Karin cuts in.

He gulps heavily a few times, obviously uneasy about the whole exchange. "When _I_ became the new owner of the company, I realized this was finally my chance. I've screwed over a lot of people in my life, I'm now sad to say, but I wanted to make it up to you two, at least."

The two of them freeze at his words, stunned by what he is trying to say. "You mean..."

Finally at the end of his tale, he straightens his posture, squaring his shoulders as if preparing for battle as he eyes Toushiro with determination. "Hitsugaya-san, what would you say if I told you I can give you a chance to play the piano again?"

****_****.. ღ ..****_****

Late that night, Karin finds her better half in his study, poring over a book in his lap. She tip-toes inside, wary of her slumbering children, but he still looks up as if sensing her presence.

"How are you doing?" she signs, looking unsure of how to approach him. The evening's events had been taxing for him, without a doubt, and he'd had to come to terms with so many of his past decisions and a possible new future.

"Fine," he assures her. Some might take that to mean the opposite, but Karin knows that her husband has never been one to make half-hearted decisions. He's stuck by her faithfully all these years, just as he had promised, and he'd never once allowed himself to regret the choice of becoming a composer. If he says he's fine, then she knows he is.

"That was a pretty big choice you had to make today," she states cautiously, gauging from his reaction whether he's ready to speak of it.

He smiles briefly, pulling off his glasses. "And I'm sure it was the right one."

She returns his smile with a grin of her own. "Yeah. It was the right choice because _you _made it."

Even so, nothing had surprised her more than when he had looked at Ayane's offer right in the eye and said_ no._

"A-are you sure?" the man had stuttered, appalled by his unexpected decision. "I"m offering you gigs, recitals, theaters, bands! You can have it all back, Hitsugaya! Just say the word and I can make it happen."

"I don't want it all back," he'd stated coolly. "I'm perfectly fine the way I am. So, thank you for the offer, but no."

The man had protested all the way to the door, still sputtering as they bid him a good life. Here had been a chance for the musician to gain everything – fame and fortune, and all the glory he'd always had as a renowned pianist. And he'd turned it down so easily!

"It was the right decision," Toushiro says now.

Karin smirks. "I know it was."

"I'm happy with the way things are in my life," he goes on, as if he feels a need to justify things to his wife. "I don't want to travel all over the place now that I have kids. And I'm happy with my job; it's something I love to do, and it keeps us supported."

As he keeps rambling on, Karin moves behind his chair and squeezes both of his shoulders soothingly. Really, she knows that the words he's saying are more for himself than for her. He'd let go of his past today, and she can only fathom how difficult it must have been.

And it had. Despite the split second it had taken him to answer Ayane, the decision in his mind had seemed like it took an eternity. In that instant, when he'd first heard the question, two images had flashed through his mind. In one, he saw himself awaiting to play at a recital, miles and miles away from his family he hadn't seen for weeks because of countless performances, looking out at a crowd of strangers as he wondered whether he had enough time to quickly call his wife and kids. And in the second, he saw himself leaving work early and picking up Karin from her work, so they could take their children out to a family dinner and spend the evening together.

The answer had been obvious after that.

With a heavy heart and an even heavier sigh, he takes his wife by the hand. Placing his spectacles and his book on his seat, he leads her out of the study and into the living room. The piano sits in the corner, where it always has, and Karin grins as he drags her over eagerly to sit side-by-side on the bench.

"It's okay to regret it just a little, Toushiro," she tells him gently, watching as he fingers the keys.

"Yeah..." he mumbles to himself, and presses down on one. The sound echoes through the silence of the house, sweet and pure, yet laced with sadness. It sounds lonely, so he presses another, and another, and another. Karin waits patiently for him to finish, and he's grateful for it.

When he finally finishes, he folds his hands in his lap and fiddles with his thumbs. His fingers suddenly feel more strained than they ever have before, as if he'd played his longest recital yet.

Cool fingers ghost over his, and he hides his surprise as Karin carefully and soothingly rubs away the discomfort. Taking each one into her grip individually, she treats them with care, as if they're something precious but fragile and need to be treated as such. He feels the discomfort instantly fly away at her ministrations. How had she known?

"It's okay to regret it just a little, Toushiro," she repeats as she continues, more sternly than before. She looks up at him with raised eyebrows, almost as if daring him to give her a half-hearted reply after that obvious display of longing. Even now, she feels his fingers twitch as if itching to return to the music he loves so much.

But, to her surprise, he smiles softly and shakes his head at her. "How can I regret it, Karin, when I already have so much I will _never _regret?"

He has his wife and his kids, and a beautiful home for them to live in. He has a job that he loves, with friends that support his every decision. He has Matsumoto, who has been with him every step of the way. He has his family, who love him unconditionally, no matter how many recitals he will never get a chance to play.

And he has the piano. No matter if he plays in his living room for a child that has yet to be brought into this world, or a crowd of snotty business men who jump at the chance to endorse him, he will _always _have the piano and the melodies he plays.

"I won't regret it," he states with determination, patting Karin's cheek. "I might feel sad now, but not forever."

She stares at him in awe at his sudden shift in mood, especially that confidence he's exuding only moments after he'd looked to be overwhelmed with sadness. But then a smile breaks out across her face, full of relief for her husband's happiness, no matter what the cause, and pride in his decision.

"So, how about I play you a song?" he offers, clenching his hands into fists as if to prepare.

"The kids are asleep," she reminds him, lowering her voice.

"Then let's hope the sound of the piano gives them pleasant dreams," he replies, smirking down at her.

She chuckles lightly, shaking her head at his answer. "Well, when you put it like that..." Her hand goes straight to her stomach, just like that afternoon. "How about you play the baby's song again?"

Toushiro gives it a second of thought, but then he shakes his head. "No, I think I want to play the one I wrote for you."

And he lets his fingers fly over the keys, replaying the tune he'd presented to her on their wedding day. She'd been a true blushing bride that day, after knowing how much thought and emotion he had put into it, just for her. That look on her face has always been a treasured memory for him, and keeping it in mind now, he pays with nothing but his feelings of love for the woman beside him, hoping it'll reach her with the right amount of passion.

And perhaps it does, because she smiles at him in a special way that instantly takes his breath away, silently thanking him for a melody she would never hear, but would always cherish as if she could.

.

.

_The End._

* * *

><p><strong>Well, here we are – at the end of this story after over a year of writing it. Really, I can't thank you guys enough for asking me to make it more than just a one-shot, because I had so much fun writing this and sharing it with you :)<strong>

**I've decided to go ahead and write the IchiRuki one-shot, since most of you seem to want to read it. I've started it, and even if you're not an IchiRuki fan, I'd still suggest you read the beginning, which focuses only on the Kurosaki family, and the very last scene, which will be a HitsuKarin one. Then again, this one- shot won't be at the top of my priorities list considering how much I have in-progress right now, so I'll put it up whenever I get the chance to finish it.**

**So, before I finally end this story for good, I want to take one last chance to sincerely thank each and every one of you who reviewed, added this to your favorites/alerts, or even just read this. I never would have even _thought _I would make it over a hundred reviews for this story, and you've made me so_ _happy :) __So thank you, thank you, THANK YOU!**


End file.
